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LOVELL’S LIBRARY-CATALOGUE. 


4. 

6 . 

6 . 

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8 . 

9. 

10 . 

11 . 

12 . 

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15, 

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21 . 

23, 


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30. 

Si. 

3 - 2 . 

33. 

34. 


35. 

35. 

37. 

33, 

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41 

42. 

43. 

44. 

45. 

46. 
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ns. 

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50. 


51. 

52. 
o3. 

54. 

55. 

56. 


.57. 

58, 

59. 
CO. 


Hyperion, Loncrfellov? 
Outre-Mer, ao 
Thfc Happy Boy, BJOru^ 

son 

Arne, by Bj5rnson ... 
Frankenstein, Shelley. 
Last of the Mohi-jaus. 
Clytie, Joseph Hatton. 
The Moonstone, Part I 
The IVfoonstone, Part II 
Oliver Twist, Dickens. , 
Cominff Race, Lytton. 
♦Leila, by Lord Lytton. 
The Three Spaniards. . , 
The Tricks of the 

Greeks Unveiled 

L’Abbo Constantin. .. . 
Freckles, byEedclilT. . 
TheDarkColleen, Jay . 
They were Married!.. . 

Seekers after God 

The Spanish Nun 

Green Mountain Boys . 

Fleurette, Scribe 

Second Thoughts 

The New Magdalen. . . . 
Divorce, Margaret Lee « 
Life of Washington,.. 

Social Etiquette 

Single Heart and Dou- 
ble Face, Chas. Reade , 
Irene, by Ceri Detlef. . 
Vice Versa, F. Anstey J 

Ernest Maltravera : 

The Haunted Hou.se. . 
John Halifax, Mulock 
800 Leagues on the 
Amazon, by Verne. . . 

The Cryptogram ' 

I.j f e of Marion . : 

Paul and Virginia 

Tale of Two Cities I 

The Hermits, Kingsley .! 
All Adventure in 
Thule, and Marriage 
of M. Fergus, Black. .: 
Marriage inlHigh Life, .j 
Robin, by Mrs, Parr. . .j 

Two on a Tower ;j 

liasselas, Dr. John.-on .i 
Alice; or. Mysteries., .v 

Duke of Kandos 5 

'Baron Munchauaeu. .. .] 
A Princess of Thule. . . 
The Secret Despatch. . J. 
Early Days of Chris- 
tianity S 

Do., Part II S 

Vicar of Wakefield... .1 
Progress and Poverty, .i 
The Spy. by Cooper.. .2 
East Lynne.Mrs Wood .2 

A Strange Story 2 

Adam Bede, Eliot, P’t I .1 

Do, Part II 1 

The Golden Shaft 2 

Portia, by The Duchess .2 
Last Days of Pompeii, .2 
The Two Ducl’.esses, . . ,S 


61. Tom Brown's School 

Days . ,20 

02. .The Wooing O’t, P><; I .15 
The Wooing O’t, P’t II . J5 

63. The Vend eta. Balzac. .20 

64. H3tpatla,.by Kingsley, .15 

Dof, Pavtn 15 

65. Selma, by Mrs. Sihith. ,15 

66. Margaret and her 

Bridesinaids .20 

67. Boree Shoo Robinson .15 

Du., i^art II 15 

68. Gulliver’s Travel.s 90 

09. Amos Barton, by Eliot .10 
VO. The Berber, bj Mayo. .20 

71. Silas Hamer, by Eliot .10 

72. Queen of the County.. 20 

73. Life of Cromwell, Hood, 15 

74. Jane Byre, by BrontS. .20 

75. Child’s Hist. England. .20 
7S. Molly Bawu, Due bees .20 

77. Pillonc, by BergeOo. . . .15 

78. Phyllis, The Duchess. .20 

79. Romola, Eliot, Pari; 1 .15 
Homola, Eliot, Pai*t IT ,25 

j80. Science in Short Chap- 
ters. 29 

81. Zanoni, by Lytton. . ^ .fiO 

82. A Dauber of Heth..', ,20 
S3. The Right and Wrong 

Utes of the Bible 20 

84. Night and Morning... '.15 

Do,, Part 11, .15 

85. Shandon Bells, Black, .20 

86. Monica, The Duchess. .10 

87. Heart and Science 20 

88. Tue Golden Calf '.20 

89. The Dean’s Daughter. .20 

90. Mrs, Geoffrey, Duchess .26 

91. Pickwick Papers, P’t I .50 

Do., Part II .20 

92. Airy, Fairy Lilian 

93. Macleod of Dare 

94. Tempest Tossed. .... .50 

Do.,‘PartII, a;0 

95. Letters from High La?- 

itudes, Earl Dufferin .20 

96. Gideon Fleyce 20 

97. India aufl Ceylon 20 

9S. The Gypsy Queen, 20 

99. Tfte Admiral’s Ward. . .20 

100. Nimport, Bynner, P’t 1.16 

Nimport, Part II 15 

101. Harry Holbrooke 20 

102. Tritons, Bynner, P’t I. .15 

Tritons, Part 11 15 

103. Let Woth’g You Dismay , 10 

104. T^ady Audley’s Secret. '■20 

105. Woman’s Place To-day .20 

106. Dunallai), by .Kennedy .15 

Do., Part II .15 

107'. nouRekeeping and 
Horaemaking 15 

108. No New Thing, Norri^ .20 

109. Spoopendyke Papers. 

110. False Hopes -.1.5 

111. Labor and Capital 20 

112. Wauda. Onida, Part I. .15 

• Wanda, II 1.5 i 


ab< 


113. More Words 

the Bible 

114. Monsieur Lecoq, P 
3fomjieur.Lecoq, P' 

116. Outline of Irish Hi 
116. The Lerottge Case. . 
iir. Paul Clifford, Lyttc 

118. A Now Lease of Lif 

119. Bourbon Lilies,. ... 

120. Other People’s Mod 

121. The Lady of Lyoj 

122. Aiaeline du Bourg’ 

123. A Sea Queen, Russ^ 
The Ladies Lindorc 

jl5. Haunted Hearts... 
'>26. Loys, Lord Beresfoj 
1;.'/. Under Two Flags. . i 
Do. (Ouida), Part L 
12S. Money, Lord Lytioi 
129. in Peril of his Life 
1G9. India; W'’'hat Can 
Teach Us? M.Mtt] 
131, Jets and Flashes. . . 
192. Moonshino and M 
guerites 

133. 3fr. Scarboroug] 

Family ;i 

Do., Pavtn 

134. Arden, Mary Robin. 

135. Tower of Percemon 

136. Yolande, Wm. Bla 

137. Cruel London, Hal 

138. The Gilded Obque. 

139. Pike County Folks 

140. Cricket on the llcj 

141. J^'iiiry Esmond 

142. ^.strange Advertture 

a PimeTx>n 

■143. Denis Duval, Tha 

eray : 

l-4d. Old Cariosity Sif 
Do., Part II 

145. Ivanhoe, Scott, P’fl 

Do., Part II 

146. White Wings, Blad 
'.47. The Sketch Book... 

148. Catherine, Thacker 

149. .Tanct’s Repentance 

150. Barnaby Rudge, P’ 
Burnaby Rudge, PS- 

151. Fedix Holt, ’by ilioc 
Richelieu, by Lytto: 

153. Sunrise, Black, "P’f 

Do., Part 11 

154. Tour of the WorldJ 

Eighty Days, Veri 

155. Mystery of Orciva?. 

156. Level, ihe Widowef 

157. Romantic’ Ad ventuS 

of a Mdkraaid. Hai c 

158. David Copperfleld.. 

Do., Part il 

159. Charlotte Temple.. 

160. Rienzi, Lytton, Pari 

Do., Part- II 


161. Promise of Marriaa 
162 Faith and Uafai’h; 


168. The IlnppyMan... 
104. BaiTy Lvndon 


SALT WATER; 


OR, THE 




ra fife /anil 


i 


OF 


NEIL D’ARCY, THE MIDSHIPMAN. 


BY 

WILLIAM H. G. KINGSTON, Esq., 

lOTHOR Of “ PETER THE WHALER,” “ MARK BE.A WORTH,” “ ROUND THE WORLD,” 
“THE MIDSHIPMAN MARMADCKE MERRY,” ETC. 


NEW YORK; 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 

14 AND 16 Vesey Steeet. . 


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SALT WATER; 


OR, 


NEIL D’AECY’S LIFE AT SEA. 


CHAPTER I. 

MY ANOESTOES — ^LAERY HAERIGAN, AND MY EARLY EDUOA* 

TION — CHOICE OF A PROFESSION — FIRST START IN LIFE. 

‘‘ The sea, the sea,” if not my mother, has been my 
nurse (and any thing but a dry one) from the earliest 
days of my recollection. I was born within the 
sound of old ocean’s surges ; I dabbled in salt wa- 
ter before I could run, and I have floated on salt 
water, and have been well sprinkled with it too, 
from that time to the present. It never occurred 
to me, indeed, that I could be any thing but a 
sailor. In my innocence, I pictured a life on the 
ocean . wave as the happiest allowed to mortals, 
and little did I wot of all the bumpings and thump- 
ings, the blows and the bufletings I was destined 
to endure in the course of it. Yet, even had I ex- 
pected them, I feel very certain they would not 
have changed my wishes. No, no. I was mightily 
mistaken with regard to the romance of the thing, 
I own ; but had T to begin life again, with all its 


10 


SALT WATER; OB, * 


dangers and hardships, still I would choose the 
ocean for my home — ^the glorious navy of England 
for my profession. 

But now for my antecedents — will not trouble 
the reader with many of them. I was born at the 
family seat in the south of Ireland. My mother 
died while I was very young, and my father. Col- 
onel D’Arcy, who had seen much service in the 
army and had been severely wounded, after a lin- 
gering illness, followed her to the grave. During 
mis time, I was committed to the charge of Larry 
Harrigan, the butler and family factotum ; and, in 
truth, I desired no better companion, for well did 
I love the old man. He was a seaman every inch 
of him, from his cherished pigtail to the end of the 
timber toe on which he had long stumped through 
the world. He had been coxswain to my mater- 
nal grandfather, a captain in the navy, who was 
killed in action. Larry had gone to sea with him 
^ a lad, and they had seldom been separated. A 
few minutes before his commander, in the moment 
of victory, lost his life, Larry had his leg shot 
away, and on being paid off, he repaired to where 
my mother’s family were residing. When my 
father married, he offered the old seaman an asy- 
lum beneath his roof. He certainly did not eat 
the bread of idleness there, for no one about the 
place was more generally useful. There was noth- 
ing he could not do or make, and in spite of his 
loss of a limb, he was as active as most people pos- 
sessed with the usual complement of supporters. 

Larry had loved my mother as his own child, 
and for her sake he loved me more than any thing 
else on earth. As he considered it a part of his 
duty to instruct me in his own accomplishments, 
which being chiefly of a professional character, I 
at a very early age became thoroughly initiated in 


NEIL d’AEOY’S life AT SEA. 11 

the mysteries of knotting, bending, and splicing, 
and similar nautical arts. I could point a rope, 
work a Turk’s-liead, or turn in an eye, as well as 
many an A. B. Not content with this, he built me 
a model of a ship, with her rigging complete. He 
then set to work to teach me the names of every 
rope and spar, and when I knew them and their 
uses, he unrigged the ship and made me rig her 
again under his inspection. This I did several 
times, till he considered I was perfect. He next 
bought fresh stuff for a new suit of rigging, and 
made me cut it into proper lengths and tm-n it all 
in correctly before I set it up. 

Now you see. Master Neil,” said he, we’ve 
just got the lovely Psyche out of the hands of the 
shipwrights, and it’s our duty to get the rigging 
over her mastheads, and fit her for sea as fast as 
the work can be done ; so let’s see how soon we can 
do the job.” 

Such were our indoor amusements, and thus I 
rapidly acquired an amount of knowledge which 
most midsliipmen take a long time to get stowed 
away in their heads. Larry also used to take me 
out on the waters of the bay, and taught me to 
row and to manage the sails of a small boat with 
tolerable dexterity. I learned also to swim, and 
had it not been for my possession of that art, I 
should probably long ago have been food for fishes. 
And here I must endeavour strongly to impress on 
the minds of my young readers the importance of 
learning to swim well, for not only may they thus 
be enabled to save their own lives, but they may 
have the happiness of preserving those of their 
fellow-creatures. 

While my poor father lived, he attended to the 
mu-e intellectual branches of my education. My 
mother taught me to read, and for her sake I loved 


12 


SALT watek; ok, 


reading. She also instilled those religious princi 
pies into me which have been my support through 
life. Short and fleeting as was tlie time she re- 
mained on earth, inestimable were the blessings 
she bestowed on me. Whatever of the milk of 
human kindness flows round my heart, from her 
gentle bosom I drew it forth ; and surely I do not 
err when I believe that her earnest prayers before 
the throne of mercy have caused watchful spirits 
to shield me from the perils of the stormy ocean, 
and from still greater dangers, the treacherous 
quicksands and dark rocks which have laid in my 
course through life. 

I was ten years old before it occurred to any one 
that a little of the discipline of a school might be 
beneflcial to me, to prepare me somewhat better 
than I could be prepared at home to rough it in 
the rude world into which I was ere long to be 
plunged. To the academy, therefore, of a certain 
boctor Studdert, near Cork, I was sent, where I 
contrived to pick up a few crumbs of knowledge 
and some experience of life. I had no great dis- 
like to school, but liked home much better ; and 
no one sung, — 

“Packing up and going away, 

All for the sake of a holiday,” 

more joyously than did I when my flrst midsum- 
mer holiday came round. 

Larry was on the watch for me as I jumped out 
of the carriage which had been sent over to Kerry 
to meet me. The old seaman had expected me to 
come back a prod^y of learning, but was horrifled 
to discover that i was puzzled how to make a 
carrick-bend, and had nearly forgotten the length 
of the PsycJte^s main-top bowline. 

“And that’s what the Doctor calls schooling, 


NEIL d’AKCY’s life AT SEA. IB 

does he, Master JS’eil?” lie exclaimed, indignantly. 
“ [N’ow, ni make bold to say that among all the 
bigwigs lie has under him, inclnding himself, there 
isn’t one on ’em knows how to gammon a bowsprit 
or turn in a dead eye. ]^ow, to my mind, if they 
can’t give you more laming than you’ve got since 
you've been away, you’d better stop at home alto- 
gether.” 

I agreed with Larry, but the higher authorities 
ruled otherwise, so back to school I. went at the 
end of the holidays, having regained all the nau- 
tical knowledge I before possessed, with a little in 
addition. 

I will pass over the sad time of my brave father’s 
death. I was left to the guardianship of my uncle, 
Counsellor D’Arcy, the great Dublin barrister^ and 
of Doctor Driscoll. I was removed to the house 
of the latter, with poor Larry, who threatened to 
do all sorts of dreadful deeds, if he were not al- 
lowed to accompany me. My patrimony, which 
had become son^ewhat attenuated, was in the mean- 
time put out to fiurse. I was rather surprised at 
not being sent back to school, when one day the 
Doctor, as he sat cross-legged before the fire after 
dinner, rubbing his shins, called me to him. 

“ I^eil, my boy, your uncle, Counsellor D’Arcy, 
has requested me to speak to you on a very im- 
portant subject. It is time, he thinks, that your 
studies should be directed to fit you for the pro- 
fession you may select. What would you wish to 
be, now? Have you ever thought on the matter? 
Would you like to follow hjs steps, and study the 
law ; or those of your honoured father, and enter 
the army ; or those of your grandfather, and go to 
sea ; or would you like to become a merchant, or 
a clergyman ; or wliat do you say to the practice 
of medicine?” 


2 


14 


SALT water; or, 


‘‘Tlrat I would never take a drop, if I could 
help it, Doctor ; or give it to others either,” I an- 
swered. “ I fear that I should make a bad min- 
ister, and a worse merchant ; and as for the law, I 
would not change places with the Counsellor him- 
self, if he were to ask me. I should have no 
objection to the armj ; but if Tm to choose my 
profession. I’ll go to sea, by all means. I’ve no 
fancy for any but a sea life ; but I’ll just go and 
talk the matter over with Larry, and hear what he 
thinks about it. 

The Doctor said nothing. He considered, I con- 
clude, that he had obeyed my uncle’s wishes in 
proposing the matter to me, and his conscience 
was at rest. I forthwith ran off and broached the 
subject to Larry; not that I doubted what his ad- 
vice would be. The old seaman gave a hitch to 
the waistband of his trousers, as he replied, with 
no little animation, — 

“ Why, you see. Master Heil, to my mind, there’s 
only one calling which a man, wjio is any thing 
of a man, would wish to follow. - The others are 
all very well in their w^y : the parsons and the 
soldiers, and the big-wigged lawyers, and the 
merchants, and the doctors, and the ‘ ’plomatics’ — 
them who goes abroad to decave the furriners, 
and takes up so much room and gives themselves 
such airs aboard ship ; but what, just let me ax, is 
the best on ’em when you puts him alongside a 
right honest, thoroughbred seaman? What’s the 
proudest on ’em, when it comes to blow half a 
capful of wind ? What’s the boldest on ’em in a 
dark night, on a lee shore? Hot one on ’em is 
worth that !” and he snapped his fingers to show 
his contempt for landsmen of every degree. “ On 
coui’se, Master Heil dear, you’ll be a seaman. 
With my will, the navy is the only calling your 


NEIL D'AROY’S life AT SEA. 15 

blessed mother’s son should follow. Your grand- 
father died in it, and your great-grandfather before 
him, and I hope to see you in command of one of 
His Majesty’s ships before I die — ^that I do. But 
I was forgetting that you were growing so big, and 
that you would be going off to sea so soon,’’ con- 
tinued the old man, in an altered tone. ‘You’ll 
remember, for his sake, all the lessons Larry gave 
you, Master Hell? And you’ll think of your old 
friend sometimes in a night watch, won’t you, 
now ?” 

I assured him that I would often think of .him, 
and try not to forget any of his lessons. I then 
went back to the Doctor, to inform him that Larry 
agreed with me, that the navy was the only pro- 
fession likely to suit me. My future calling being 
thus speedily settled. Doctor Driscoll, who was 
aware that knowledge would not come by intuition, 
sent me to an old master in the navy, who for- 
tunately resided in the neighbourhood, to be in- 
structea in the rudiments of navigation. As I w^as 
as wide aw^ake as most youngsters of my age, 1 
very soon gained a fair insight into its mysteries ; 
and by the time the spring came round, I was pro- 
nounced fit for duty. 

A brother of my mother’s, who commanded a 
large revenue cutter on the south coast of Eng- 
land, having been applied to for advice by the 
Doctor, answered by the following short note ; — 

Dear Sir, — I’ll make a seaman of Heil, with 
:ill my heart, if you wdll send him across to Ports- 
mouth. Let him inquire for me at tlie ‘ Star and 
Garter.’ Should I be away on a cruise, I will 
leave wmrd with the landlady what is to be done 
with him. My craft is the Serpmt. I remain, 
taithfully yours, Terence O’EnAHERTv.” 


16 


SALT WATER; OR, 


“What! send the child all the way over tc 
Portsmouth himself !” exclaimed good Mrs 
Driscoll, the Doctor’s wife, on liearing the con- 
tents of this epistle. “Why, lie might be spirited 
off to the Plantations or the Black Hole of Cal- 
cutta, and we never hear any more about him. 
What could Mr. O’Flaherty lie thinking about 

“ That his nephew is about to be an officer in 
His Majesty’s service, and that the sooner he 
learns to take care of himself the better,” replied 
the Doctor. 

“ Let him begin, then, by slow degrees, as birds 
are taught to fly,” urged the kind dame. “ He has 
never been out of the nest yet, except to school, 
when he was put in charge of the coachman, like 
a parcel.” 

“ He will find his way safe enough,” muttered 
the Doctor ; “ won’t you, ISTeil ?” 

To speak the truth, I would gladly have under- 
taken to find my way to Timbuctoo, or the anti- 
podes, by myself, but I had just formed a plan 
which 1 was afraid might be frustrated, had I 
agreed with the Doctor; I therefore answered, 
“ ril go and ask Larry and without waiting for 
any further observations, off I ran, to put it in 
train. It was, that Larry should accompany me 
to Portsmouth ; and 1 had also a notion that he 
might be able to go to sea with me. He was de- 
lighted with my plan ; and, backing Mrs. Driscoll’s 
objections to my being sent alone, it was finally 
arranged that he should take charge of me till ho 
had handed me over to my uncle Such parts of 
my outfit. as could be manufactured at home, Mrs 
Driscoll got ready for me, and Larry was empow- 
ered to procure the rest for me at Portsmouth. 

I confess that I did not shed a tear, or cast a 
look of regret at my birthplace ; but with a heart 


NEIL d'ARCY’s life AT SEA. ii 

as light as a skylark taking his morning flight, 1 
mounted alongside Larry on the top of the coach 
bound for Dublin. While in that city we saw my 
uncle, the Counsellor. I do not remember profit* 
ing much by the visit. He, however, shook me 
kindly by the hand, and wishing me every success, 
charged Larry to take care of me. 

“Arrahl” muttered the old man, as we walked 
away, ‘‘ his honour, sure, Avould be after telling a 
ben to take care of her chickens, now.” 

In London Ave put up at an iim at the Avest end, 
near Exeter ’Change ; and while dinner was get- 
ting ready, we Avent to see the Avild beasts which 
dwelt there in those days. I thought London a 
very smoky, dismal city, and that is all I can re- 
member about it. 

Larry was rigged for the journey in a suit of 
black ; and though he Avould have been knoAvn, 
hoAvever dressed, by every one for a seaman, he 
was ahvays taken for an officer of the old school, 
and was treated accordingly, with becoming re- 
spect. Indeed, there Avas an expression of mild 
flrmness and of unassuming self-confidence in his 
counteiiance, added to his silvery locks and his 
handsome, though Aveather-b eaten features, aaLicIi 
commanded it. 

We spent only one night in London ; and by 
five o’clock in the afternoon of the day Ave left it 
AA^e Avere rattling down the High-street of Ports- 
jnouth, on the top of the fast coach, Avhile the 
guard played “See the Conquering Hero comes” — 
Avhich I liad some notion lie did in compliment 
to me. 

I thought Portsmouth a much nicer place than 
London, (in Avhich idea some people, perhaps, will 
not agree with me,) while I looked upon the “Star 
aid &rter” in the Point, Avhere we stopped, as n 


18 


SALT water; or, 

very fine hotel, though not equal in dignity to the 
“George.” My chest, made under Larry’s super 
intendence, showed that its owner was destined 
tor the sea. Taking my hand, Larry stumped up 
the passage, following the said chest, and the bag 
which contained his wardrobe. 

“What ship has your son come to join?”^ asked 
good Mrs. Timmins, the landlady, curtseying, as 
she encountered us. 

“ Faith, marm, it’s not after being the son of the 
likes of me is Master D’Arcy, here,” he answered, 
pleased at the same time at the dignity thus con- 
ferred on him ; “ this is the nephew, inarm, of 
Lieutenant O’Flaherty, of His Majesty’s cutter, 
the Serpent y and I’ll make bold to ax whether 
she’s in the harbour, and what directions the Lieu- 
tenant has left about his nephew ?” 

“ Oil dear, now, the cutter sailed this very morn- 
ing for the westward,” answered the landlady ; 
“ mat is unfortunate ! And so this young gentle 
man is Lieutenant O’Flaherty’s nephew. Well, 
then, we must take good care of him, as she won’t 
be back for a week; and you know, mister,- you 
needn’t trouble yourself more about him.” 

“Faith, marm, it’s not I will be after leaving 
the young master till I see him safe in his uncle’s 
hands,” answered Larry, with a rap on his thigh ; 
“so I’ll just trouble you to give us a room with a 
couple of beds in it, and we’lT take up our cpiarters 
here till the cutter comes back.” 

This arrangement of course pleased tlie worthy 
Mrs. Timmins, as she got two guests instead of one ; 
and I thus found myself established for a week at 
Portsmouth. Having selected our chamber, w^e 
went into the coffee-room and ordered dinner. 
There were several youngsters there, and other 
junior officers of the profession — for the “ Star and 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


19 ' 


G-arter” was at this time more frequented than the 
far-famed “Blue Posts.” At first, some of the 
younger portion of the guests were a little inclined 
to look superciliously at Larry and me; but he 
stuck out his timber toe, and returned their glances 
with such calm independence, that they soon sus- 
pected he was not made of the stuff to laugh at, 
and they then showed an evident disposition to 
enter into conversation with him to discover who 
he could be. This, for my sake, he did not wish 
them to do ; for. as he was to act the part of guar- 
dian, he thought it incumbent on him to keep up 
his dignity. 

We passed, to me, a very interesting time at 
Portsmouth. We constantly wished the dock- 
yard, which was my delight. He took me over 
the Victory^ and showed me the spot where Hel- 
son fell ; and with old associations many a tale and 
anecdote which, long since forgotten, now returned 
to his memory, he poured into my eager ear. 

Some people declare, and naval men even do 
so, that there’s no romance in a sea-faring life — 
that it’s all hard, dirty, slaving work, without any 
thing to repay one, except prize-money in war time 
and promotion in peace. How, to my inind, there’s 
a great deal of romance and chivalry and excite- 
ment, and ample recompense in the life itself ; and 
this Larry, who ought to have known, for he had 
seen plenty of hard service, had himself discovered. 
It is that some do not know where to look for the 
romance, and if found, cannot appreciate it. The 
stern realities of a sea-life — ^its hardships, its dan- 
gers, its battles, its fierce contest^with the ele- 
ments, its triumphs over difficulties — afford to 
some souls a pleasure which ignobler ones cannot 
feel : I trust that my adventures will explain what 
T mean. For my own part, I can say that often- 


20 


SALT water; or. 


times have I enjoyed that intense pleasure, that 
joyous enthusiasm, that high excitement, which 
not only recompenses one for the toil and hard- 
ships by which it is won, but truly makes them as 
nothing in comparison to the former. All I can 
say is, let me go through the w^orld sharing the 
rough and the smooth mike — the storms and sun- 
shine of life, — but save me from the stagnant ex- 
istence of the man who sleeps on a feather-bed and 
always keeps out of danger. 


CHAPTER II. 

DON THE TRUE BLUE — LARRT’s NAVAL REMINISCENCES — ANEC- 
DOTES OF KINO GEORGE III. — MUTINY AT THE NORE — ESCAPE 
OF SIR HARRY BURRA RD NEALE AND HIS CREW FROM THE 
MUTINEERS. 

My uniform was to be made at Portsmouth. Of 
course I felt myself not a little important, and very 
fine, as I put it on for the first time, and looked at 
myself in the glass, with my dirk buckled to my 
side, and a round hat with a cockade in it on my 
head. We were sitting in the coffee-room, waiting 
for dinner, on that eventful day, when a number 
of youngsters belonging to a line-of-battle ship 
came into tlie inn. They had not been there long, 
when the sliiny look of my new clothes, and the 
way I kept handling my dirk, unable to help look- 
ing down at it, attracted the attention of one of 
them. 

“That’s a sucking IS’elson,” he exclaimed, “I’ll 
bet a sixpence !” 

“Hillo, youngster! to what ship do you be^ 
long ?” asked another, looking hard at me. 


NEIL d’ A lley’s LIFE AT SEA. 21 

“ To the Ser^pent cutter,” I answered, not quite 
liking the tone in which he spoke. 

“And so you are a cutter’s midshipman are 
you ?” he asked. “And how is it you are not on 
board, I should like to know ?” 

I told him that the cutter was away, and that 1 
was w^aiting for her return. 

“ Then I presume that you haven’t been to sea 
at all yet ?” observed the hrst who had spoken, in 
a bland tone, winking at his shipmates, with the 
intention of trotting me out. 

I answered simply that I had not. Larry, I 
must observe, all the time was sitting silent, and 
pretending not to take any notice of them, so that 
they did not suspect we belonged to each other. 

“Poor boy, 1 pity you,” observed the young 
gentleman, gravely, and turning up his eyes. “ I’d 
advise you seriously to go back to your mamma. 
Tou’ve no idea of all the difficult things you’ll 
have to learn; of which, to know how to hand, 
reef, and steer, isn’t the hundredth part.” 

“ In the first place, I have not a mamma to go 
to,” I replied in an indignant tone ; for I did not 
like his mentioning her, even. “ And perhaps I 
know more about a ship than you think of.” 

“ You ! what should you know about a ship, I 
should like to know ?” exclaimed the midshipman, 
contemptuously. 

“ Why, I know how to gammon a bowsprit,” 1 
rephed, looking at him very hard ; “ I can work a 
Turk’s-head, make a lizard, or mouse a stay — can’t 
I, Larry ?” I asked, turning to the old sailor. “And 
as for steering, I’ve steered round Kilkee Bay 
scores of times, before you knew how to handle an 
oar. I’ll be bound — haven’t I, Larry ?” 

The old man, thus appealed to, looked up and 
spoke. “ Faith, you may well say that same, Mas- 


22 


SALT water; or, 


ter Neil; and proud am I to have taught you. 
And ni jiist tell you, young gentlemen, I’ll lay a 
gold guinea that Master D^Arcy here would get 
the rigging over the mastheads of a ship, and fit 
her for sea while either of you were looking at 
them, and thinking how you were to sway up the 
topmasts. No ofience, you know, but as for gam- 
moning — I don’t think any one would beat you 
there.’° 

Several of the midshipmen muttered murmurs 
of applause at what Larry and I had said, and in a 
very short time we were all excellent friends, and 
as intimate as if we were shipmates together. They 
at once respected him, for they could not help rec- 
ognizing him as a true sailor ; and they also saw 
that, young and inexperienced as I appeared, I was 
not quite as green as they had at first supposed. 
We were soon all pretty well engaged in conver- 
sation, when Larry got into his anecdotal vein, and 
various subjects relating to the sea were discussed. 
The name of His Majesty George the Third was 
mentioned. Larry heard it. 

Ah, faith, he was a king indeed !” he exclaim- 
ed. “Often’s the time I have -seen him, as close 
as I am to you, gentlemen ; and more than once 
His Majesty has spoken to me, too, — and that’s 
more than some people can boast of.” 

■ ‘‘ I suppose he spoke to you much as he did to a 
seaman who, when once he paid a visit to Ports- 
mouth, stood on liis head on the top of a church 
steeple, near where the King was standing. When 
Jack came down from his perch, he got as near as 
he could to the King. ^ Who are you, my man?^ 
asked the King. ‘Please your Majesty’s honour, 
I’m the man who was standing, just now, on my 
head on the top of the steeple,’ answered the sea- 
man expecting to get a good reward. ‘ Ai*e you ? 


NEIL D’AKOY’S LIFE AT SEA. 


23 


said the King. ‘ Then let me tell you that you are 
a very great fool for your pains, and you richly 
desei’ve to be sent to prison for endangering the 
lives of my subjects passing under the steeple ; so 
now go, and never do it again.’ ” 

We laughed at the midshipman’s story, but 
Larry looked grave. 

“ You are wrong there, young gentlemen, for he 
asked me how my wife and children were, and 
how long I had been in the service, and what ships 
I had served in, and many a question of that sort,” 
answered Larry. “ Ay, ay, he was a king, indeed ; 
and as kind a gentleman, too, as ever stepped on a 
quarter-deck.” 

“ Well, and what answer did you give the 
Kingf’ asked one of the youngsters. 

“Why, I told his Majesty that, as for the matter 
of the wife and children, I hadn’t got either one 
nor t’other ; and that I’d been eight years at sea, 
and had served in three different ships besides the 
one we were then aboard, which was the jSt. Fio- 
renzo^ Captain Sir Harry Burrard Heale. Y^ou’ve 
heard talk of him,” said Larry. “ But I was 
speaking of our good old ‘King. We were then 
stationed at Weymouth, where his Majesty was 
living, and the King was constantly aboard of us, 
and used to take trips up and down the Channel, 
and to the Isle of Wight, for he was very fond of 
sailing. There wasn’t a man on board who didn’t 
love and reverence him, for he was always kind 
and amiable, and used .to come and talk as frankly 
to us, just as if he was no better thaii we were. 
It was his Majesty’s kind way of speaking which 
won all our hearts. If he could have had his own 
will, he’d always have been afloat ; and they used 
to say aboard that he insisted on standing out to^ 
sea so far that there was a risk of falling in with 


24 


SALT WATER; OR, 


some 01 the enemy’s cruisers, and so the captain 
used to be obliged to get him below to have a 
game of chess, and then the ship was put about, 
and stood back again till the game was nearly 
over, when she again stood off- 3 iore. The King 
used to come on deck, and look about, and say, 
‘Why, we’ve made very little way. Sir Harry, 
since we went below.’ And the captain used to 
^l^ajesty, the wind has been 



was to get becalmed, she 


might be in a position your Majesty would not ap- 
prove of.’ This used to satisfy the King ; or if he 
twigged the truth, he felt it was for his good, and 
said nothing ; for he was very much attached to 
Sir Harry, and knew that he always did what was 
right. The King had reason to love the captain, 
and so had all the men he commanded ; for thi’ough- 
out the service there wasn’t a better officer, or a 
kinder or braver man than Sir Harry Burrard 
Heale. He was, indeed, the father of his crew, 
for he watched .over our interests as if we were his 
childi’en, and never punished a man if he could 
possibly help it. He never swore himself, and 
never would allow his officers to swear at us, nor 
abuse us, as many do; and though most of the 
men don’t mind it — for they get so accustomed to 
it, — ^yet they respect themselves, and the officers 
too, much more when they are not forced to sub- 
mit to it. Well, as I was saying, we all loved our 
captain ; and I’m now going to tell you how we 
once had a good opportunity of giving proof of 
the same.' You’ve heard, mayhap, speak of the 
mutiny at Spithead and the ISTore, when the crews 
of nearly all the ships of the fleet deprived their 
officers of their authority, and took command 
themselves. It was a very sad event at the best, 
and I don’t much like to think about it ; but they 


NEIL D’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


25 


had some excuse, too, for in those days there were 
many very great grievances in the navy, of which 
the people had a right to complain. The pro* 
visions were very bad, and they were cheated out 
of lialf of them ; the water the ships took to sea 
•vas kept in wooden casks, and was often not tit to 
drink; very little liberty was allowed, and men 
were often drafted from ship to ship, without be 
ing permitted to go and see their friends for yeai 
together ; our pay was low, our share of prize 
money small, and punishment was very severe ; 
and even an officer of the watch might order a 
man a dozen lashes at a moment’s notice, while a 
captain might flog a man to death, and no notice 
be taken of it. Plenty of spirit was allowed — we 
had no reason to complain of a want of that, — and 
hot burning stuft* it was. We must remember 
also, that in those days the press-gangs brought 
many unwilling men into the service, and that the 
prisons and hulks sent not a few more, who were 
thought too bad to be let loose on shore ; and then 
the wonder is, that a ship’s company was^ not a 
great deal worse than the reality ; but, with a bad 
tyrannical captain, you may suppose that she was 
not far oft* from a regular hell afloat. It was^this 
state of things which made the seamen of the fleet 
at Spithead, set on by some regular searlawyers, 
send what they intended to be remonstrances to 
the admiral. Lord Howe; and those unsigned 
papers not receiving any attention, they rose 
against their officers — putting some on shore, and 
keeping others in confinement, declaring that they 
would- not return to their duty till their grievances 
were redressed. We were at that time lying at 
Spithead, in company with the Queen Cha/rlotte) 
the Royal George^ the Royal Sovereign^ the Ixtn 
don^ and thirteen other ships. 


26 


SALT water; or, 


Our ship’s company had been secretly visited 
by some of the delegates, as they called themselves, 
from the other ships ; and, seeing how bad things 
had got, we agreed to select also two delegates to 
communicate with the rest of the fleet. As yet, 
you must know, the officers hadn’t even an inkling 
of what was going to take place ; but we were de- 
termined that Sir Harry should be prepared ; so, 
as soon as our visitors had gone, and we knew that 
we had no traitors on board, we went aft to him in 
a body, and telhiig him what was determined on, 
we swore to stick by him through thick and thin, 
and to obey whatever orders he might choose to 
issue. He thanked us warmly, and told us that he 
placed perfect confidence in our loyalty, but that 
at present all we had to do was to remain quiet, 
and that he hoped things wouldn’t come to extrem- 
ities. The next day, however, the red flag, which 
was the signal of mutiny, was seen to fly at the 
mainmast of the Queen Charlotte^ and all the other 
ships of the fleet hoisted it also. As the mutineers 
had threatened to sink any ship which refused to 
join, we were obliged to follow the example of the 
rest; but while we did so, we were only waiting 
for an opportunity to get away from them. Thus 
mucli I must say for the crews of Lord Howe’s 
fleet, that they generally behaved very well to- 
wards their officers, and that their demands were 
but reasonable, though at the same time they took, 
I’ll allow, a very bad way of making them known. 
As I liave before said, we were obliged to choose 
delegates, like the rest of the ships’ companies ; 
but, instead of choosing the most disaffected and 
violent men, we selected two of the most loyal, as 
' likely to be faithful to our captain. They had to 
go on board the Queen Charlotte^ and to attend the 
councils of the delegates whenever a meeting wag 


UmL d’arctt’s life at sea. 


27 


held, and to pretend to enter into the views of the 
rest. Tliey had, yon see, a very difficult game to 
play, so they said as little as possible. It* they ad- 
vised strong measures, they might do harm ; and 
if they held their tongues, they miglit be suspected 
of not being true to the cause. I don't mean to 
say but what we hoped the government would 
listen to their complaints, and redress their griev- 
ances ; but Ave knew, as all honest men must know, 
(hat rebellion is not the proper way to gain a good 
object. Noav, Avhat I am going to tell you was not 
known generally on board, but it was suspected by 
many. Every day, after the delegates had attended 
the council, they used to go into Sir Hairy’s cabin 
and tell him every thing that had occurred, and 
he, with their knowledge, mind you, used to write 
up full information to the admiralty. But, mark 
you, our delegates kneAV, and so did Sir Harry 
know, that they were thus really serving the cause 
of the seamen, or I do not think they Avould have 
done what they did; and I know right well he 
Avould not have moved a pen in the matter. He 
was the last man in the world to go and do any 
tiling to harm men Avho were more misguided than 
criminal — ^t'or he was tlie soul of honour itself. He 
felt as much as any one for the seamen ; and I have 
good reason to believe that the information and 
advice he sent up to the government had great 
Aveight in making them agree to the proposals 
offered by the fleet, and in bringing the mutiny at 
Spithead to an end. You see, young gentlemen, 
vvhat poAver one honest, good man has over thou- 
Bands of wild spirits — so has a bad rogue ; but there 
is this difference — the good man is certain to suc- 
ceed in the end, the bad one is as certain to fail. 
Our captain lived honoured and loved by all Avho 
kneAV him ; the chief mutineers, who kept all Eng- 


28 


SALT water; or, 


land ill awe, died the deatli of felons, acknowledg- 
ing the justice of their punishment. While nego- 
tiations were going on between the delegates and 
the admiralty, the St. Fiorenzo received oi’ders to 
proceed to Sheerness, to carry over to Cuxhaven 
the Princess Poyal, just married to the Duke of 
Wurtemburg. To obey these lawful orders we 
were obligecl to obtain permission from the body 
of delegates ; but as they did not object to our 
going, we got up our anchor and made sail. We 
were a short time in harbour, getting the cabin 
fittings put into the ship, and stowing the guns 
away in the hold. While we were in harbour, we 
heard that the demands of the fleet at Spithead 
had been agreed to, and that the people had I’e- 
turned to their duty. When we were ready again 
for sea, we, supposing the mutiny at an end, pro- 
ceeded to Sheerness. We were standing in for the 
Nore, when what Avas our surprise to see the red 
flag flying on board the Sandwich^ which was the 
guard-ship. AVeof course thought t^ ' ' ' 



had not heard that the demands 


Spithead had been complied with, so our delegates 
went on board to give tliem the happy news. To 
that ship belonged Ki chard Parker, who became 
for a short time chief of the mutineers, and admirai, 
as they called him, of the fleet. He had lieen 
shipmate with me, and with a good many of the 
St. Fiorenzds crew also, and we never thought 
any thing of him, either as a seaman or in any 
other way.^ He was born a gentleman, and had 
been an officer in the service, and once acted as a 
lieutenant, but was dismissed liis ship for drunken- 
ness, and Avas always a dissipated, good-for-nothing 
sort of character. He had some education and 
was a bit of a sea-lawyer ; but what put him most 
forward, was a certain gift of the gab he had, which 


NEIL D^AECY’s life AT SEA. 29 

made him able to talk to the people. To m}’ mind, 
however, none of them really cared for him, and it 
was only the want of a better man which placed 
him where he was. I belonged to the boat’s crew 
which pulled our delegates aboard the Sandwich. 
When we got on deck none of the officei*s appeared, 
and a man named Martin, who used to go by the 
name of Gentleman Martin, was acting as captain. 
Our delegates looked amazed, as well they might. 

‘‘ ‘ Why, how is this V asked one of them ; ‘ we 
thought, mates, you’d have heard that all om 
grievances were redressed, and that the fleet at 
Spithead have returned to their duty.’ 

“ ‘ We know all about that,’ answered Martin, 
“ but we’ve got some more demands to make, and 
till they are granted we don’t intena to give in.’ 

“ ‘ Well, I’ll be — ,’ exclaimed one of our men ; 

‘ don’t you think yourselves a pretty set of rascally 
traitors, after our gracious sovereign has been 
pleased to give us all we asked for, to go and be- 
have in this way? I blush for you, mates, and 
de2:>end on it no good will come from such be- 
haviour.’ 

When Parker heard this, he rushed up to 
where we were standing, and pointing to the yard- 
ropes, which were rove, threatened to run us up 
to the yard-arms, if we didn’t obey orders directly. 
Our delegates by this time seeing that there would 
be no use quarrelling with the mutineers, pre- 
tended to agree with Parker and the rest, and in a 
short time we left the Sandwich^ and returned to 
our own shij). We then reported all that had oc- 
curred to our oflicers, and consulted what was best . 
to be done. An old fellow- cruiser, the Clyde^ Cap- 
tain Cunningham, was anchored near us, and as 
sve knew that her crew were loyal and true to 
their colours, some of our people went on board 

3 * 


80 


SALT WATER; OR, 


her to learn what she was going to do. Captain 
Cunningham was a kind^ good commander, and 
his ship’s company said they were ready to do 
whatever he ordered. At Last it was settled be- 
tween him and Sir hlarry, that if the rest of the 
fleet did not return to their duty, we should slip 
our cables and run under the batteries of Sheer- 
ness for protection. As the Clyde was the inner- 
most ship, she was to start first, and we were to 
follow when she wns clear ofiP. You must know 
that all this time there was a constant communica- 
tion kept up between the fleet and the shore, and 
the delegates used to march about Sheerness with- 
out any one attempting to hinder them. Even the 
ofiicers were constantly on shore, though they 
couldn’t leave their ships without permission frmn 
their crews. One day several of tlie officers of the 
St. Fiorenzo went on shore, and I accompanied 
them to carry a carpet bag. On landing, we 
passed through the dockyard, and had just got out- 
side the gates, when the wdiole body of the dele- 
gates came by, with Parker and Davis at theii 
head, as insolent in their bearing as could well be. 
Just then they met the Lancashire Eencibles 
marching in to strengthen the garrison, for it was 
feared that the crews of the ships might take pos- 
session of the place if they were hard up for food. 
Ko sooner did the soldiers appear than the seamen 
began hooting and shouting at them, and calling 
them all manner of names. The soldiers at this 
were of course in a great rage, and I thought that 
they would have fired on them, and that there 
would have been a regular fight. Outside the 
gates we met the admiral and one of the commis- 
sioners, and while I was standing close behind one 
of om’ officers, (Lieutenant Mitford,) the officer 
commanding the Eencibles came up to the admh 


NEIL d’AROY’S life AT SEA. 


81 


ral, and complaining bitterly that the delegates, 
and the seamen with them, had insulted and 
abused his men, asked if he might surround tliem 
and take them prisoners. 

“ Tlie commissioner shook his head, and didn^^ 
seem to approve of the proposal. 

“‘Yes, yes; now’s the time,’ exclaimed Lieu- 
tenant Mitford, eagerly, as if he couldn’t help 
speaking. 

“ ‘ How dare you say any thing,’ cried the admi- 
ral, angrily. ‘What do you mean, sir?’ 

“ ‘That these are all the delegates together ; and 
if you choose to take them in a net together, you 
may, and put an end to the mutiny.’ 

“ To my mind, the lieutenant’s advice was good ; 
and a little more firmness and a good deal more 
justice in high quarters would have settled the 
whole affair early in the day, and prevented the 
mutiny gaining the head it now had. But the 
admiral wouldn’t hear a word about it ; and the 
military officer had to go back to his men rather 
wiser than he came. The worst part of the busi- 
ness was, that Parker and Davis and others hi^ard 
what the lieutenant had said, and he was a marked 
man. If they had caught him, tliey would have 
tarred, feathered, and yard-armed him, to a cer- 
tainty, as they did to some other officers for whom 
they had a dislike. The mutineers also vowed 
that they would hang Sir Harry, if they caught 
him, for the trick he played tliem, as I am about to 
describe. When we got on board again, we waited 
till the time agi’eed on, and still the mutiny went 
on; so the Glyde slipped, and making sail just at 
the last of the flood, she ran in without damage, 
vind brought up close under the batteries, where 
none of the ships dared come near her. When we 
were going to do the same, our pilot took flight, 


82 


SALT water; or, 


and said if we attempted it w^e should be certain to 
get on shore, wdien the mutineers would knock us 
to pieces. The officers did all they could to per- 
suade him to take charge of the ship, but to no 
purpose ; and at last Sir Harry, or the master, was 

f oing to do so, when it was perceived that the ebb 
ad made, and that success would have been very 
doubtful. Seeing this, the captain ordered us to 
keep all fast, and wait for another opportunity. 
When it was discovered by the rest of the fleet that 
the Clyde had escaped, the ringleaders of the mu- 
tineers were in a great rage, and several of the del- 
egates of the leading ships came on board and 
abused our ship’s company for letting her go with- 
out flring into her. At this time there were some 
twenty to thirty sail of line-of-battle ships and 
frigates at the Hore in the hands of the mutineers, 
and this made them very boastful. They kept the 
frigates and small craft cruising about, to cut ofl* 
vessels with provisions, and to prevent any from 
going up the Thames. 

‘ And so you scoundrelly 8t. Fiorenzds are 
siding with our enemies,’ cried one of the delegates.. 
‘ That’s it, we see. You are a mean-spirited set of 
cowards, and would rather go on pining under your 
wrongs than lift a hand to nelp yourselves.’ 

‘‘ Hiis sort of language em*aged our people ex- 
ceedingly ; and one of oui* quarter-masters, John 
Aynsley b}^ name, ran aft, and touching his hat to 
the flrst lieutenant, cried out, ‘ May we heave these 
dirty blackguards overboard, sir, who dare to call 
us cowards to our faces?’ The flrst lieutenant 
shook his head, and said there must be no violence : 
or had he given only a nod, as sure as they stood 
before us with their bragging airs, we’d have had 
every one of them overboard, and let them drown. 
It would have been a better death than the hang 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


33 


ing which was the fate of most of them. From the 
way our men spoke to our visitors, the delegates 
saw at once that there was no chance of our join- 
ing them. You must remember, at that time we 
had most of our guns 'below, and were in no way 
in* fighting trim, so we could not help ourselves. 
Seeing the state of things, and that we would cer- 
tainly escape if we could, Parker and some of thu 
other chief delegates ordered us to get under way, 
and to take up a birth between the Inflexible and 
Director^ the crews of which were the most deter- 
mined and violent of all the mutineers. At the 
same time, we were ordered to unbend sails, and to 
send our gunpowder on board the Sandwich^ the 
ship of Admiral Parker, as he was now called. 
Considering that there were now thirty-two sail of 
men-of-war close to us, Avith the red fiag fiying, we 
were obliged to pretend to agree to the arrange- 
ments proposed ; for if we had refused, Parker was 
just then in the humour to send on board and take 
all our people out of the ship, and to distribute 
them among the other ships ; or, " ^ i 



\ XLK^ OA-LLJ^O j \JX i 

the broadsides of all the whole 


wouldn’t have been very pleasant, you’ll allow. 
Howsoever, neither our captain, officers, nor our- 
selves were men to yield without a blow, — and a 
pretty hard one, too, given or taken, to a regular- 
built enemy, much more to a set of rascally plot- 
ting mutineers, as (without injustice I may say) 
Avere the men Avho were noAv ordering things on 
board the fieet, grossly deceiving the people, and 
(mly thinking how they might ])est get their own 
necks out of the noose their OAvn folly had formed 
for them. I just say what Ave thought aboard the 
St. Fiorenzo; but then you know that for the mat- 
ter of food and pay and prize-money, we had been 
liable to be no better oft’ than other ships. There 


34 


SALT WATER; OR, 


was this difference, however; we were always 
kindly treated hy our officers, and some of the oth- 
er crews were oftentimes very brutally treated. 

“As usual. Sir Harry was info^’ined of every 
thing which had taken place, and he at once told 
the people that if they were willing and would 
prove stanch, (as he knew we would,) instead of 
Dbeying the orders of the rebels, we would fight 
our way into Sheerness. As you may suppose 
we all cheerfully agreed to stick by him, at al 
risks ; and we instantly set to work to get ever] 
thing ready for a start, before the delegates shoulc: 
send to learn why we were so long in obeying 
orders. We got springs on our cables, so as to 
cast inshore : the people were at their stations, and 
some hands ready to cut as soon as the ship canted 
the right way, when, as we were heaving away on 
the spring,, it broke, and she payed off on the tack 
which would take her right in among the fieet. 
Our brave captain and all his officers, you must 
know, were at their proper posts ; but the moment 
he saw what had happened, cool as if nothing was 
wrong, he ordered every thing to be sheeted home, 
and told Aynsley, one of the quartermasters, to 
take command, and that he would dictate, to him 
what to do. The quarter-deck officers immediately 
jumped down below, so as not to be seen by the rebels, 
and the petty officers took their places, so that it 
might be supposed, you know, that the ship was in 
the power of the crew. It was about as trying a 
time as I ever went through, for the crews of the 
two line-of-battle ships had their guns double-shot- 
ted, and were all ready with lanyards in hand to 
fire into us directly they saw any sign of our try- 
ing to get away from them. As the ship gathered 
way, we stood in directly between the two ships, 
Sir Harry watching for the proper moment to do 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 85 

what lie intended. On we stood, when, as we 
drew in between them, he ordered to let fly all the 
sheets, which so took the mutineers by surprise, 
that instead of firing they kept looking at us, won- 
dering what we were about, and thinking that we 
were coming to an anchor in no very seaman-like 
fashion. A.t this moment. Sir Harry ordered the 
helm to be put ‘ hard-a-port,’ which made the ship 
now, with good way on her, to shoot ahead of the 
Inflexible^ and at once showed the mutineers that 
we did not belong to them. Immediately Sir 
Harry and all the oflicers rushed on deck. 

“^Well done, my lads,’ cried our brave captain, 
as he once more took command. ‘ W ell done, my 
lads.’ 

“A loud shout from fore and aft showed how 
much we valued his approval ; but there was i;o 
time for cheering, for we had somewhat serious 
work on hand. 

“‘How clear away the bulkheads, and mount 
the guns,’ he exclaimed. ‘Be sharp, my lads ; for 
we shall have to fight our way out of this.’ 

Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, and 
while every man on board was hurrying to obey 
his orders, (for you know the guns were below, and 
the deck was full of cabins for the Princess and 
her people,) than the whole fleet of thirty-two sail 
opened their fire upon us. The shot fell about us 
like hail ; and you would have supposed that we 
must to a certainty have been sunk ; but we went 
about our work as if nothing was happening ; and, 
wonderful as it may seem, very few struck our 
hull, or did us any damage. Some say that the 
DireGtor'^s people tired blank cartridges, for, near 
as we were to her, she could scarcely have failed 
to do us an inj ury ; but, to my mind, they and the 
other crews could not bring themselves to fire on 


36 


SALT water; or, 


countrymen, and were not a little struck with ad- 
miration at the gallant way in which we did things, 
and took care to fire wide of us. In little more 
than two hours, we had all the bulkheads cleared 
away from the cabin door to the break of the 
quarter-deck, and the guns of both sides, which 
were down in the hold, roused up and mounted. 
We were then ready for action; but of course we 
were making the best of cur way out of the reach 
of the fleet. 

“ ‘ How, my lads,’ said Stanley, one of the quar- 
ter-masters, ‘ I propose that, sooner than go back 
among those mutinous rascals at the Here, we tell 
Sir Harry that we’ll fight the ship to the last, and 
go down in her, rather than strike. What say you ?’ 

u «^e’ll stick to the captain, and fight the ship 
to the last,’ we exclaimed ; so we all went aft, and 
told Sir Harry that if he thought fit we would go 
down with him in the ship. He gave us one of his 
pleasant smiles, and told us he lioped things would 
not come to that pass. But before the day was 
over, we had reason to think we should have to 
make good our words. Our master was a very 
good pilot; but, as you knc’^/, the navigation of 
the mouth of the Thames is very difficult, and he 
declined taking charge of the ship within the 
boundaries of a branch pilot. We were therefore 
on the look-out for a pilot vessel, when we espied 
a lugger on the lee bow, and were on the point of 
bearing down to her, when the look-out hailed that 
there were several sail standing towards us, appa- 
rently from the northward. We soon made them 
out to be the North Sea fleet, and also that they 
had the red flag flying at their mast-heads. They, 
we afterwards heard, had left their station in a 
state of muti^, and had put all their officei's un- 
dei urrest. We hoped to pass them unquestioned ; 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


37 


but very soon we saw a frigate bearing down upon 
us. From her we might have got away; but if 
she had discovered us, we should have had the 
whole fleet at our heels; so Sir Harry gave the 
speaking-trumpet to Stanley, and told him when 
she hailed to know Avhat we were doing, to answer 
that we were cruising there to look out for ships 
with provisions to supply the fleet, which was at 
that time very hard up. As before, the officers 
stowed themselves awtiy out of sight, when the 
frigate drew near us. She hailed, and Stanley 
hailed in return, as agreed on. The answer seemed 
to satisfy her. If it had not, we were all ready to 
run to our quarters to beat her off. As soon as we 
parted company from her we stood after the lugger. 
We thought she was French, but we couldn’t tell 
exactly. Having made the usual signals, and she 
taking no notice of them, we were convinced she 
was an enemy, so we made all sail in chase to the 
southward and w'estward. Every stitch of canvas 
the ship could carry was clapped on her, and we 
were in high spirits at the thought of making a 
prize. Tliere was a good breeze, and w^e gained 
rapidly on the chase, till, after a run of four houre, 
we brought her to, and took possession of her. 
She proved to be the Castor and Pollvjx^ mounting 
sixteen guns. The captain now determined that 
we should make the best of our way to Ports- 
mouth, with our prize in company. As we were 
on our course there, the lugger, being to wind- 
ward, spoke a brig, which told her that the mu- 
tiny had again broken out at Spithead. Under 
these circumstances. Sir Harry thought it prudent 
to anchor under Dungeness, till he could commu- 
nicate with the Admiralty. We therefore ran in 
as close as w’e could, and brought up just as it was 
getting dark. It was in the middle-watch, and I 


88 


SALT water; or, 


was on deck, when a sail was seen standing for ns 
We made the private night-sigiiaV, wliich she an- 
swered at once, but that was no certain sign that 
she was loyal, as the mutineer might easily have 
got possession of an} of the private signal-books. 
We accordingly instantly beat to quarters, to be 
ready for the worst. The wind w^as very light, so 
she closed with us slowly, and as she drew near, 
she looked so high out of the water, that we made 
sure she was a line-of-battle ship. However, we 
were not daunted, and we again ’went aft to the 
captain, and begged him to let us sink at our 
anchors, rather than surrender to the mutineers. 
Springs had been got on our cables, and we now 
hove on them, so as to bring our broadside to bear 
on the approaching ship, which we could see clear- 
ly, from there being a light at every port-hole. 
On she came, very slowly, and I should think 
there were few among us who did not feel the sus- 
pense very awful, for we could not -tell but that 
within the next half hour we might be engaged in 
a deadly strife with our own countrymen. 

“ ‘ All ready there, fore and aft cried the first 
lieutenant, as he went round the decks to see that 
the glins were properly pointed. 

“ ‘ Ay, ay, sir,’ we answered with a cheerful 
tone, to show that we were not going to shirk our 
duty. At length the stranger drew near; Sir 
Harry seized the speaking-trumpet and hailed, 
‘What ship is that?’ 

“‘His Majesty’s frigate Captain Lord 

Garlais, from the West Indies,’ was the answer. 

“ It was a happy moment, for the Huzza/r not 
fiaving had any intercourse with the other ships, 
her crew was not disaffected. Our captains now 
commuicated with each other, and the Ruzzar 
brought-up close to us. Her officers had been 


NKIL d’aROY’s life AT SEA. 


39 


rery iiuicli astonished at seeing us at quarters, a ad 
could not make out the reason of so much precau- 
tion. AVhen, however, lier people were made ac- 
quainted with all that had occurred, they were so 
much struck with the bravery and determination 
of our ship’s company, that they begged that they 
might stay by us; and promised that, should any 
of the mutinous fleet be sent to bring us back, 
they would defend us to the last, and share our 
late. 

“Fortunately for us all, by this time, there was 
so much dissension and want of mutual confldence 
in Parker’s fleet, that they had enoiigh to do to 
look after themselves; several of the crews had re- 
turned to their duty, and, reinstating their oflicei’s, 
bad followed our example by carrying their ships 
• mt from among the rest. Without provisions or 
vater, or men capable of commanding them, the 
•emainder had no other choice but to surrender, 
'Y to act a still more traitorous part, and to carry 
the ships into an enemy’s port. Whatever some 
of the worst might have proposed to do, to this 
the crews would not agree ; and in a few days we 
heard that Parker and the other ringleaders had 
been taken, and that the mutiny was at an end. 

“ Parker was hung soon afterwards, on board the 
Sandwich, and so were several of the others on 
board their respective ships, and most of them 
died confessing the justice of their sentence. Of 
one thing I am very certain, that there were very 
few of what one may call the real seamen of the 
fleet disafi“ected, or who, at all events, would have 
done more tlian remonstrate ; it was the sea-law- 
yers, the spendthrift gentlemen, the play-actors, 
and runaway attorneys’ clerks who led them on, 
and incited them to the mad acts bhey committed. 
There were many things done which I have not 


40 


SALT water; or, 


spoken about, because I have no wish to give you 
a history of the mutiny, but only of the part my 
ship played in it. One thing I want you young 
gentlemen to remember, and you won’t take it the 
worse that an old seaman says it to you, — ^if you 
follow Sir Harry Burrard Heale’s example, if you 
treat your crews as you should, like men — and 
Christians, — never abuse them, look after their in- 
terests, are kind and considerate, and not ovei 
strict, — if you are active and smart officers, and 
show them that you know your duties, you will 
have happy ships, and your people will stick by 
you to the last, and follow you to the death. An- 
other thing you may learn, that, if you let abuses 
creep into the navy, you are like a man who would 
allow a bad sore to appear on his right arm, which 
is sure to weaken and destroy it in the end ; there- 
fore, as soon as they appear, it is your duty by 
every means in your power to get them remedied. 
Though sad was the mutiny I have been talking 
of, those very ships were not long afterwards led 
by the veteran Lord Duncan, in the Yenerahle^ on 
the 11th October, 1797, to fight one of the most 
glorious actions of England’s naval heroes, and to 
gain the renowned victory of Camperdown. I for- 
got to tell you that when the conduct of the ship’s 
company of the St Fiorenzo became known, it was 
proposed to raise a subscription for them, but in 
the end, only one place, Ludlow, in Shropshire, 
raised £500, which was sent down to Sir Harry, 
and distributed by him on the quarter-deck. There., 
young gentleman, I have given a .much longer ac- 
count of the afiair than I intended, but I hope none 
of you are tired with it, noi- otfended with the free 
way in which an old seaman has spoken tc you.” 

The imdshipmen all assured Larry that, so far 
from being tired, they were very much ijiterest(^(? 


NEIL D’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 41 

in wliat he had told them, and would be glad to 
hear any more of his yarns at another time, but 
that they must now get on board their ship as fast 
as they could. So we parted on very good terms, 
and whenever I met any of them afterwards, they 
always asked me after my old friend Larry, and 
seemed to have a great respect for him. 

I do not pretend to give the above account in 
the wmrds he used, nor with his rich brogue, which, 
if he had ever got rid of while at sea, he Iiad picked 
up again on his return to Ireland. It is valuable 
as an exact statement, by a person who witnessed 
all the events he describes. 


CHAPTER III. 

ROMANCE OF THE SEA — LARRY AND HIS WIFE. 

In our trips to the dockyard, and cruises about 
the harbour, we visited nearly all the ships in or- 
dinary*' which had fought the glorious battles of 
liberty, when the nations of Europe were leagued 
against Old England, to overthrow it. Some few 
still floated proudly, with timbers sound and strong, 
prepared again to stand the brunt of battle, as be- 
fore ; but many were, like the gallant men who 
manned them, laid on the shelf, battered and rot- 
ten, and no longer able to buflet the wild waves 
of the ocean. I have often felt as if, from the mo- 
ment a ship floats on the salt water, she becomes 
imbued with consciousness of passing events — with 
almost human feelings, — shame at defeat or flight, 
triumph in pursuit or victory, and that she might 
tell the glorious tales of the actions in which she 
has engaged, and strange ones of the scenes which 


42 


SALT water; or, 


have taken ])lace on board her. As I have gazed 
at those old hulks, and marked their solitary, deso- 
late condition, I have fancied also that the once 
buoyant spirit which possessed them still lingered 
disconsolate aboard, bewailing in sadness their 
altered condition. I have pictured the appear- 
ance of the spirit as a female with stern aspect, 
with sunken cheeks, large glowing eyes, and 
bronzed complexion, — her ell* locks hanging down 
in dishevelled masses over her shoulders, while her 
gaunt and stooping form is enveloped in garments 
of sea-green. Her place of abode is the lower 
hold, and there she sits, her face resting on her 
thin hands — day and night to her the same — and, 
shrouded in darkness, awaiting with low' moans, 
the destruction of her charge. I suppose that, like 
many of my countrymen, 1 am somewdiat of a po- 
etical temperament, though, fortunately for my 
readers, I don’t wu’ite poetry ; and very likely such 
an idea has never crossed the minds of any one of 
the many thousands who have pulled about Ports- 
mouth harbour ever since it contained a ship-of- 
war, and they therefore may laugh at the notion. 
All I can say is, that from the same poetical, ro- 
mantic temperament, I have often enjoyed intense 

E leasure, and have been able to endure trials and 
ardships under which others have sunk. We had 
been waiting some time at the “ Star and Garter,” 
and there were no signs of the Serpent^ and from 
the information Larry gained from those who w'ere 
likely to know, he wns led to believe that several 
days more might elapse before her return, so he 
proposed that we should look out for lodgings, as 
more economical, and altogether pleasanter. 1 
willingly agreed to his plan, so out we set in search 
of lodgings. We saw several which did not suit 
us. At last we went to Southsea, which we agreed 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


a 

would be more airy and pleasant ; and, seeing a 
bill up, at a very neat little house, we knocked at 
the door, and were admitted. There was a nice 
Bitting-room and bedroom, and a small room, which 
Larry said would do for him. The landlady, who 
was a pleasant-looking, buxom dame, asked only 
fifteen shillings a week, including doing for us ; so 
we agreed to take it. By some chance we did not 
inquire her name. 

‘‘ Good-bye, Missis,” said Larry ; “ I’ll send the 
young gentleman’s traps here in half an hour, and 
leave him mean time as security. I suppose you’ll 
have no objection to stay. Master D'Arcy?” he 
added, turning to me. 

I had none, of course, and so it was arranged. 
While Larry was gone, the good lady took me into 
the sitting room, and, begging me to make myself 
at home, was very inquisitive to know all about 
me. I had no reason for not gratifying her, so I 
told her how my mother and then my father had 
died and left me an orphan, and how I had come 
all the way from Kerry to Portsmouth, and how I 
belonged to a cutter which I had not yet seen, and 
how I intended one day to become a Kelson or a 
Oollingwood. Of my resolution the kind lady 
much approved. 

“ Ah, my good, dear man, if he had lived, would 
have become a captain also ; but he went to sea 
and died, and I never from that day to this heard 
any more of him,” said she, wiping the corner of 
her eye with her apron, more from old habit than 
because there were any tears to dry up, for she 
certainly was not crying. “ Those, things on the 
mantel-piece, there, were some he brongJit me 
home years and years ago, when he was a gay 
^-oung sailor, and I’ve kept them ever since, for 
tus Fake, though I’ve been hard pushed at times to 


44 


SALT watek; or, 


find bread to put into my mouth, young gentle 
man.” 

Tlie things she spoke of were such as are to be 
found in the sitting rooms of most sailors’ wives. 
There were elephants’ teeth, with figures ot nrien 
and women carved oir them, very cleverly copied 
from very coarse prints; and there were shells ot 
many shapes, and lumps of corals, and bits of sea- 
weed, with the small model of a ship, very much 
battered, and her yards scandalized, as if to mourji 
for her builder’s loss. She was placed on a stand 
covered with small shells, and at either end were 
bunches of shell flowers, doubtlessly very tasteful, 
according to the widow’s idea. The room was 
hung round with coloured prints, which even then 
I did not think well executed. One was a sailor 
returning from a voyage, with bags of gold at his 
back, and sticking out of his pockets. I wondered 
whether I should come back in that way ; but as I 
did not know the value of money, there was no- 
thing very exciting in it to me. There were two, 
under which was written ‘‘ the lovers’ meeting.” 
In both cases the lady w'as dressed extravagantly 
fine, with a bonnet and very broad ribbons ; and 
the lover had on the widest trowsers I ever saw. 
Another represented a lady watching for her lover, 
whose ship was seen in the distance ; and one more 
I remember was a seaman cast upon the shore, 
with a female bending over him ; while there were 
several pictures of ships, some of which were on 
the tops of waves running truly mountains high, 
and curling over in a very terrific way indeed. I 
had time to inspect all these things while my land- 
lady was getting my bedroom ready. I had not 
dined, and when Larry, who was rather longer than 
I had expected, returned, I found that he had pur- 
chased all sorts of necessary provisions, and that 


NEIL D^ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


45 


they only wanted cooking for me to oat them. 
While he laid the cloth, the landlady performed 
the office of cook ; and in a little time a very nice 
dinner of veal cutlets, ham, and fried potatoes made 
its appearance. When Larry had notliing to do 
but to look about him, I observed him fix his eyes 
in a strange sort of way on the model of the ship, 
o-nd then at the shells and the other things in the 
room. At last he turned to the landlady. 

Please, inarm,” said he, “ where did you get 
all them things from 

“ Oh, sir,” answered the landlady, “ they were 
given to me by my poor dfear man, who has been 
dead and gone this many a long year.” 

“ May I be bold to ask, and no offence, what is 
your r.ame, marm ?” said Larry. 

‘‘My husband was an Irishman, like yon, and 
my name is Ilarrigun,” answered the landlady, 
who held at the moment a jng of beer, from wliich 
she was going ro pour me out a tumblerful. 

“ Faith, you may well say that he was like me, 
marm, for, curious enough, that’s my name too,” 
answered Larry. 

“ Your name !” exclaimed the landlady, stand- 
ing still and looking doubtfully at him. 

“Yes, my name — it is, indeed,” said Larry. 
“And may I ask wdiat is your Christian name, 
marm ?” 

“Jane is my name, and yours is Lawrence!” 
shrieked Mrs. Harrigan, letting fall the jug of 
beer — which was smashed to pieces — and rusliing 
towards him. 

“ By the pipers, you’re right now ; but if you’re 
yourself — my own Jane Harrigan, whom I thought 
dead and buried, or married long ago to another 
man, it’s the happiest day of my life that I’ve seen 
for a long time,” cried Larry, throwing his arms 


46 


SAliT WATER J ORj 


round her and giving her a hug which 1 thought 
would have squeezed all the breath out ot her 
body. 

I looked up at the pictures on the wall, ana 
fancied he was imitating one of the persons there 
represented ; though, to be sure, my Iriends were 
ratlier aged lovers. 

“ And I thought you w^ere lost at sea long, long 
ago,” cried Mrs. Harrigan, now sobbing in earnest. 

“Faith, so I was, Jane, and it’s a long time I’ve 
been being found again,” said Larry ; “ and how 
weVe both come to life again is more than I can 
tell.” 

“ Oh, I never forgot you, and wouldn’t listen to 
what any other man had to say to me,” said Mrs. 
Harrigan. 

“ Nor I, faith, what the girls said to me,” returned 
Larry. “ But for the matter of that my timber toe 
wasn’t much to their liking.” 

“ I see, Larry, you’ve lost your leg since I lost 
vou, and it was that puzzled me, or f should have 
known you at once — that I should,” observed Mrs. 
Harrigan, giving him an affectionate kiss on his 
rough cheek. 

lliey did not mind me at all, and went on talk- 
ing away as if I was not in the room, which was 
very amusing. 

Lariy afterwards confessed to me that he should 
not have recognized his wdfe, for when he went to 
sea and left her for the last time, she was a slim, 
pretty young woman ; and though she was cer- 
tainly not uncomely, no one could accuse her of 
not having flesh enough. T arry, as many another 
sailor has done, had married at the end of a very 
short courtship, his wife, then a nursery-maid in an 
officer’s family at Portsmouth, and a few weeks 
afterwards he had been pressed and sent out to 


NEIL D'AKUY S LIFE AT SEA. 


47 


the East Indies. While there, he had been drafted 
into ancther ship, and the ship in which he had 
left home had been lost with all hands. Of this 
event his wife became acquainted, and having 
come from an inland county, and not knowing 
how to gain further information about him, she 
had returned to her parents in the country. They 
died, and she went again into service. 

Meantime, Larry, having lost his leg, came 
home, and, notwithstanding all his inquiries, he 
could gain no tidings of her. At last. he came to 
the conclusion that she must have married again, 
probably another sailor, and gone away with him 
— no uncommon occurrence in those days; so he 
philosophically determined to think no more about 
her, but to return to the land of his birth to end 
his days. 

She had gone through the usual vicissitudes of 
an unprotected female, and at last returned to 
Portsmouth with a family in whose service she 
acted as nurse. Here, having saved up a little 
money, she determined to settle as a lodging-house 
keeper, and she had taken the house in which we 
found her. 

This event caused me very great satisfaction, fcr 
it had occurred to me that Larry would find him- 
self very forlorn going back to Ireland without me 
to look after, and no one to care about ; and now, 
instead, he would have a good wife, and a com- 
fortable house to live in. She also would be the 
gainer, for he had saved some money when in our 
service, and as he was a sober, temperate man, he 
would be able to assist her very much in her busi- 
ness. . On my own account also, I was veiy glad, 
because I should now have many opportunities of 
seeing him whenever I returned to PortsTnouth. 

Several days passed away after this, during 


48 


SALT water; or, 


which time I must say no one could have taken 
better care of me than did good Mrs. Harrigan ; 
and I felt convinced that my old friend woulJ 
likewise he well looked after during my absence. 


CHAPTER IV. 

LIEUTENANT o’fLAUEETT — MY SHIP AND SHIPMATES — ^TH 
pilot’s boat — RESULTS OF DRUNKENNESS — MY FIRST COM- 
MAND. 

One day, on going with Larry, according to cus- 
tom, to the ‘‘Star and Garter” to learn tidings of 
• the cutter, I saw a line sailorlike-looking man, with 
an intelligent and good-humoured expression of 
countenance, talking to the landlady. 

“ There’s the young gentleman himself,” she ex- 
claimed, pointing at me. 

“ What, my lad, are you indeed my nephew ?” 
said the officer, kiiidly, putting out his hand and 
pressing mine warmly. “ F aith, I need’nt ask that, 
though, you are the very picture of your po^r 
mother. Well, Neil, the sooner you get on board 
and begin learning your duty the better.” 

I answered that I was perfectly ready, for I at 
once took a great fancy to him, and thought I 
should be very happy in the cutter. 

He now observed Larry for the lirst time. 
“What, old shipmate,” he exclaimed, shaking 
him warmly by the hand, “ are you the trustwor- 
thy person Dr. Driscoll told me he would send to 
look after the youngster? I’m delighted to see 
pu again, and wish I could give you a bertli on 
board my crafty but I’m afraid the service wont 
permit that. You must, however, come and take 
a cruise with us, and talk over old times.” 


d’arcy's life at -sea* 


49 


“ Faith, your honour, I’m not much fit for duty, 
1 own, with my timber toe, afloat, and I’ve just 
found a snug berth on shore, which I intend to 
keep till Master D’Arcy settles down* in the halls 
of his fathers, and wants my services; but I’ll 
gladly take a cruise with your honour, and just see 
how he practices all I’ve taught him. You’ll find 
Jiim in a few days. I’ll warrant, as smart a seaman 
as many who’ve been two or three years afloat.” 

To make a long story short, while Larry re- 
mained on shore with his new-found wife, I went 
on board the cutter ; and the following day we ran 
out of harbour, round by St. Helen’s, and stot>d 
down channel in search of a smuggling craft, of 
whose movements the commander had received 
notice. 

I found my uncle, on further acquaintance, to bo 
what his looks betokened him, a thoroughly honest, 
hearty sailor. His first officer was a very old 
mate, who had long given up all hopes of promo- 
tion in the service. He was ‘married ; and his 
wife and family lived near Portsmouth ; his name 
was John Hanks. There was a second master and 
a clerk in charge ; so that, for a cutter, we made 
up an unusually large mess. We had no surgeon, 
as we could always run into harbour if any of us 
required doctoring. 

My uncle, who was a poor man, had taken the 
command of the cutter for the sake of his wife and 
family ; and when I came to know my sweet young 
aunt, I felt, with her smiles to welcome him when 
he got home, Lieutenant Flaherty was a happier 
man far than many who roll in their easy carriages 
about the streets of smoky London. 

Mrs. O’Flaherty, with the two children she then 
had, lived in a pretty little cottage near Kyde^ 
where he was able every now and then to go and 


60 


‘SALT water; or, 


see her. Of course he was never wanting in iUJ 
excuse, when duty would allow him, to be oil 
-Ryde ; and on one of these occasions he first intro^ 
duced me td^his wife. I loved her at once, for she 
was a thoroughly genuine, graceful woman, young 
and pretty, with a kind warm heart, and a sweet 
expression of countenance, which her character did 
not belie. My little cousins and I also became 
great friends, and I confess that I felt I would 
much rather stay witli her than have to go to sea 
and knock about in all weathers in the cutter ; but 
duty sent us both on board again, and it was a long 
time before I had another opportunity of paying a 
visit to Daisy Cottage. 

But I have been going ahead of my narrative. 

We we were standing down channel in the Ser- 
pent Our cruising ground was chiefly from St. 
Helen’s to the Start ; but we were liable to be sent 
elsewhere, or might go wherever our commander 
had notice there was a chance of catching a 
smuggler. 

We had been out some days, keeping a sharp 
lookout off Portland Point for a noted fellow, 
IV^ers by name, the owner of a fast lugger, the 
Kitty ^ who was expected to try and run a cargo of 
tubs in that neighbourhood. 

The smugglers played us all sorts of tricks, and 
I must own we were more than once taken in by 
them. On one occasion, while it was blowing very 
fi*esh, a cutter hailed us and told us that she had 
just passed over a number of tubs, pointing out 
the direction where we should find them. While 
we were engaged in picking them up, she made 
sail for the shore ; and we afterwards learned, to 
our mortification, that she had run a very largo 
ca^o of contraband goods. 

Tlianks to Larry’s instructions, as I was very 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


51 


bandy in a boat, and understood the duties of a 
midship man tolerably well, I was, to my great de- 
light, soon placed in charge of one of the gigs. 

A few days after the occurrence I have described, 
when we were about mid-channel, we observed a 
vessel whose appearance was suspicious. It had 
just gone two bells, in the forenoon watch. It was 
blowing pretty fresh from the south-west, and there 
was a lop of a sea, but not enough to endanger a 
boat. We made sail towards the stranger, and as 
we neared her we perceived that she was veering 
about, apparently under no control. 

“ Her main boom has gone,” observed Hanks, 
“ and there doesn’t seem to be a soul on deck ; her 
crew have been knocked or washed overboard, I 
suspect.” 

“ I am afraid so,” said the commander. “ She 
looks to me like a pilot-boat. She was probably 
struck by a squall, with only a couple of hands left 
in her.” 

‘‘Lubberly work somehow, at all events,” re- 
marked Hanks. 

In another ten minutes we were close to the 
pilot-boat, and the cutter being hove-to, a boat was 
lowered, and Hanks and I were ordered to go in 
her and see what was the matter. When we 

f ained the deck, we found that the boom had 
nocked away part of the bulwarks and com- 
panion hatch, and committed other damage. The 
first thing we did was to lower down the mainsail 
and to secure the boom, which task, after some 
difficulty, we accomplished. We next set about 
eearching the vessel, thinking that no one was on 
board. The main hatch was on, but there was a 
little cabin aft, with a small stove in it, and six 
berths, in which the crew lived. Tliere was a 
table in the cabin, and on it were a couple of 


52 


SALT water; or, 


tumblers, a thick-necked, square-sided glass bottle, 
on its side, a broken pipe, and wet marks, and 
ashes of tobacco, as if peo^Dle had very lately been 
drinking there. 

“What’s wrong here?” said Hanks. It could 
not have been long ago since some one was on 
board.” 

Our eyes soon began to get accustomed to the 
sombre light of th.e cabin, which was darkened by 
the mainsail hanging over it. I happened to stoop 
down, and my eyes glanced under the table, where 
we had not before looked. 

“ Hillo,” I exclaimed, “ why here are a man’s 
legs.” 

“There seems to be two brace of them,” said 
Hanks, laughing. “ Come out, my hearties, and 
give an account of yourselves.’ 

Saying this, he began to drag towards the com- 
panion-ladder one of the men ; I following his ex- 
ample with regard to the other. 

“ Why, Jim, we ain’t got in yet, so let us alone, 
will ye,” grunted out one, as he turned on his side, 
without opening his eyes. 

The other was too drunk to speak ; indeed, had 
we not loosened his neckcloth, 1 believe he would 
have died of apoplexy, for he was already getting 
black in the face. We placed them near the com- 
panion-ladder, where they could obtain some air, 
and then, getting off the main hatch, we proceeded 
to search the vessel. In the hold were several 
casks of French brandy, immensely strong spirit, 
intended to be diluted before being sold. From 
one of these the crew had evidently been helping 
themselves, and not being accustomed to so potent 
a liquid, fancying it of the ordinary strength, it 
had overcome their senses before they were aware 
of what was happening to them. AVe found, also, 


NEIL d’arCY’S life AT SEA. 


53 


Dutch drops, several bales of tobacco, and sundry 
other things, amply sufficient to condemn the craft 
as a smuggler, but which also proved that it was 
an unusual venture, and that the people were not 
adepts in the contraband trade. We searched the 
vessel throughout, but no one else was discovered. 

Who, then, could Jim be we asked ourselves, 
The drunken men were still too fast locked in a 
state of stupor to answer. When nothing more 
could be done. Hanks sent me back to the cutter, 
to report proceedings, hoping to be ordered to take 
tin rize in himself. 



When I had made my re23ort, Yery well,” said 
the Commander, “ I wish to try what amount of 
discretion you possess, Hcil ; so you shall take the 
prize up to Portsmouth, and deliver her and the 
people over to the proper authorities. Take Thole 
and four hands with you. Look out that the 
prisoners do not escape, and I dare say you will 
do well. I shall be up at Portsmouth in a day or 
so, to take you off. How get on board, and assume 
your command as fast as you like. Send Mr. 
Hanks on board again.” 

A change of things was soon put up in a bundle, 
and I and it bundled on board the’ prize. 

“ And so you are to go, youngster, are you ?” 
remarked Hanks, as I got on board. “ It’s all my 
ill luck, for I thought to go myself, — ^but good-by e,- 
youngster, and a pleasant trip to you.” 

Saying this, he stepped into the boat alongside, 
and returned to the cutter, leaving me in posses- 
sion of my new-fledged honours. The pilot-boat 
belonged to some place on the Dorsetshire coast, 
and had drifted up off’ St. Alban’s Head, where we 
found her. The Heedles were just in sight ahead, 
qr rather the end of the Isle of Wight, off which 
J\ey extend, so it seemed an easy matter to run in ' 


54 


SALT water; or, 

but I suspect, without Thole I should have made 
Bome slight mistake or other, which might have 
laid my charge on the rocks, ihole showed me 
the proper marks, and by keeping the two light- 
houses on Plurst Point in one, we ran in between 
the Needles and the shoal of the shingles. I felt 
very grand, as I walked the deck with my spyglass 
under my arm, and watched the chalk-white clifis 
of Alum Bay rising high above us on the right 
and the curiously-coloured strata of sand at the 
eastern end of it, the wood-covered heights ot 
Freshwater, and the little town of Yarmouth. Ou 
the left, the old castle of Hurst, and the long extent 
of the forest shores of Hampshire, with the pic- 
turesque town of Lymington rising among the 
green trees and green fields. I had, I confess, a 
feeling — grand as I had to appear — that I knew 
less than any body else on board about afiairs 
nautical ; but modesty is the frequent companion 
of merit, and though I was very little, I might 
have been remarkably good. 

By this time one of the ])risoners began to come 
to himself, and his astonishment was only equalled 
by his alarm when, on sitting up and rubbing his 
eyes, he found himself surrounded by strange faces, 
and discovered that the craft was running up the 
Solent Channel. My uniform at once toldliim the 
ti-uth. 

“ Where’s Jim ?” he asked, on seeing only his 
drunken companion near him. 

“ Jim — I don’t know who you mean,” answered 
Thole. ‘‘ If it was an}’' one you left on deck, mas- 
ter, why, all I can say is, he wasn’t there when ^ve 
boarded you.” 

On hearing this announcement, he started to his 
feet, instantfy throwing off all appearance of 
drunkenness, except that his eye was haggard and 


NEIL d’aRCV’s LIFr. A'i SEA. 55 

his cheek discoloured. He was a man of about 
fifty, of a stout build and a weather-beaten, bronzed 
face, rather full and good-humoured, certainly not 
giving one the notion that he was an habitual 
drunkard. His hair was somewhat long, and dis- 
hevelled and grizzled, from exposure to the atmos- 
phere. 

“What! Jim not on board?” he exclaimed, 
rushing on deck. “ Where is my boy — what has 
happened to him ?” 

He stood for a few seconds leaning against the 
companion-hatch, while his eye scanned the con- 
dition of the vessel, and he seemed instinctively to 
comprehend what had happened. 

‘‘ Where is Jim ?” he repeated, in a hollow voice. 

I don’t know, master,” answered one of our 
men, whom he seemed to address. “ We only 
found you tw'o below. If there was -another of 
you, he must have been washed overboard while 
you lay drunk in the cabin.” 

“Drunk!” he ejaculated, “then, my son. I’ve 
murdered you.” As he uttered these words he 
sprang to the side, and would have thrown him- 
self overboard had not Thole, who just then came 
on deck, caught him by the legs and dragged him 
forcibly back. The unhappy man struggled vio- 
lently in his endeavour to perpetrate his intention. 
“ Jim, Jim, my son ! you gone — ^gone forever ; 
how can I go home and face your mother, my 
boy ?” he cried, his bosom heaving with the pas- 
sion raging within. Then he turned frantically to 
us, sw^earing oaths too frightful to repeat. “ You’ve 
been murdering him, some of you, you bloody- 
handed king’s officers. I know you of old. It’s 
little you care for the life of a fellow-creature. 
Where is he, I say ? I left him on deck sound and 
well, as fine a laa is ever stepped. How" could lie 


56 


SALT water; or, 


have gone overboard ? He hadn’t touched a drop ^ 
he was as sober as any one of you ; but I kno\v 
how it was, you chased him, and he wouldn’t give 
in — he stood at the helm like a man, so you, you 
cowardly hounds, shot him down, as it he were a 
brute. There’s his blood on the deck-— the brave 
lad’s blood, and you dabbling your feet in it — -^^ou, 
his murderere, and laughing at me his father.’ ^ 
Tims the unhappy man went raving on, conjur- 
ing up, in his excited imagination, scenes the most 
dreadful. Of course we heeded not his raving 
abuse, for we pitied him most sincerely. There 
was now no doubt that while the father and his 
smuggling companion, were drunk below, -the son 
bad been knocked overboard. In vain had the 
\ oice of the poor lad implored aid from those 
whose brutal intoxication prevented them even 
from hearing his death-shriek ere he sunk forever. 
It was with the greatest difficulty we could hold 
the wretched man as we dragged him below and 
lashed him into one of the standing bed-places, he 
tliere still continued raving as before, now calling 
on his son to come to him, and then accusing us 
of his murder. His cries and groans at last awoke 
the other man out of his drunken trance, but it 
was some time before he could comprehend what 
had happened. He was not a father, and when at 
length he came to his senses, he, with brutal indif- 
ference abused his companion for disturbing him. 
As I stood over the skylight which had been got 
off to give air to the little stifling cabin, I heard 
him growl out, “Jim’s gone, has he? his own fault, 
then, not to keep a better look-out. It’s he, then, 
who’s brought us into this scrape, and I don’t see 
why you should make such a jaw for what can’t 
be helped. There now, old man, just belay all 
that, and let me finish my snooze. We can’t hang 


NEIL d’aRGY'S life AT SEA. 


57 


for it you know ; there, there now,” — and he actu- 
ally turned on his side and went off to sleep again 
At length the father of the drowned lad ’wore 
himself out and fell off, it seemed, into a sort of 
stupor. 

“ I never knew no good come of smuggling,” ob- 
served Thole, rather sententiously ; “ what they 
makes they spends as fast as they gets, and no 
one’s the better for it.” 

N’obody had a better right than had he to know 
this, for he had been somewhat addicted to the 
practice in his you^th, and had in consequence been 
sent on board a man-of-war. The flood and fair 
wind carried us right into Portsmouth Harbour, 
where I dropped my anchor and pulled on shore 
to report my arrival to the custom-house authori- 
ties. I was in one respect sorry that my cruise 
was over, because I was obliged to descend from 
my rank as commander to that of midshipman, but 
as I hoped some day to regain it, I did not grieve 
much about it, especially as I expected to be soon 
able to set off' and pay Larry a visit. The two 
smugglers were sent to prison; one .afterwards 
entered ’on board of a man-of-war ; the unhappy 
father died raving mad in the hospital, calling 
himself the murderer of his son. 

Thus ended what I may consider my first cruise. 


58 


«ALT WATER; OR, 


CHAPTER V. 

MTKRS THE SMUGGLER — I LEAHN TO PLAT THE FIDDLE — 

SMELL GUNPOWDER — ACTION WITH A LUGGER — LEFT IE 

THE LURCH. 

The cutter soon after came in, and after seeing 
mj men safe on board her, I got leave for a day 
to pay a visit to Larry. On ringing, I heard him 
stumping down stairs to open the dogr. When he 
saw me, lie could scarcely contain his delight ; and 
forgetting etiquette and all rules and precedents, 
he seized me in his arms as if I had been a baby 
and almost squeezed the breath out of my body. 
Though I had not been away six weeks, he vowed 
that I had grown wonderfully, and looked like a 
man already. Mrs. Harrigan was equally compli- 
mentary, and I could not help feeling myself a 
person of mighty importance. I was very glad to 
find that my old friend was perfectly contented 
with his wife, and that he made himself very use- 
ful to her, so that there was every prospecb of their 
being comfortable together. The house was full 
of lodgers ; but there was a little room which they 
insisted on my occupying. They themselves lived 
in a back parlour, where I spent the evening with 
them. I slept at their house, and the next morn- 
ing returned on board the cutter. We were order- 
ed to keep an especial look-out for Myers, whose 
lUgger was reported to have run more cargoes 
than any free-trader among the vast numbers en- 
gaged in the illicit trafiic. She belonged to Beere, 
a small town on the Dorsetshire coast, in West 
Bay. It is a pretty, quiet little place, and consists 
of ( ne long broad' street, built in the centre of a 


NEIL B’AUCy’s LIFE AT SEA. 


59 


ralley reaching close down to the waters edgCj 
with white dins on either side of it. The lugger 
was often seen off there ; but we could not then 
touch her, as she was never found with any thing 
in her to enable us prove that she was engaged in 
smuggling. Myers, whenever on these occasions 
we paid him a visit, was always the politest of 
men ; and a stranger might suppose that he had a 
vast regard for all kings’ officers, and for us espe- 
cially; and yet in reality no man hated. us more 
cordially, or would more readily have worked us 
Larm. 

Cruising after smugglers is not the noblest work, 
perhaps, in which one can be engaged ; but it is 
necessary, not altogether unprofitable, and at times 
highly exciting. In the war time, the smugglei’s 
had large armed vessels, which set the king’s cruis- 
ers at defiance, and seldom failed to show, fight. 
When I was in . the Serjpent^ they were frequently 
armed ; but their business was to run, and they 
never fired unless in hopes of knocking away the 
spars of a pursuer, or at the last extremity, to de- 
fend themselves. 

I should be very ungrateful to old Hanks if I 
omitted to mention his kindness to me, and the 
pains he took to give me instruction in my profes- 
sion. Among other accomplishments, he taught 
me one of which he was himself not a little 
proud. 

“ D’Arcy,” said he one day to me, “ I’ve a re- 
gard for you, and I’ll put you in the way, my lad, 
of gaining your bread, should other trades fail.” 

‘‘ What is it, Hanl^s ?” I asked ; “ I’m glad to 
learn any thing you will teach me.” 

“ It is to perform on the violin, my boy,” he an- 
swered. “ I learned the art for the reason I men- 
tion. I have never yet been called upon to gain a 


60 


SALT watek; ok, 


livelihood by it ; hut I do not kuow how soon J 
may be, if things don’t mend with me.” 

“Is it to learn the fiddle you mean?” said I 
“ Faith, with all my heart. Hanks ; and the soonei 
I begin, then, the better.” 

Hanks was delighted at gaining so willing a 
scholar, though I suspect our shipmates would 
rather have had us both securely moored at the 
bottom of Fiddler’s Kace, off Yarmouth. When- 
ever duty permitted us, our fiddles were never 
idle. My performance was not very scientific, cer- 
tainly ; but I learned to play, after some months’ 
scraping, many a merry tune, such as would make 
the men kick up their heels irresistibly when they 
heard it. 

“There, D’Arcy,” said my kind instructor, at 
the end of the tune ; “ now, my boy, whatever 
happens, and wherever you go, provided you can 
save yonr arms and your fiddle, you’ll be a wel- 
come guest, and will never want a morsel to put in 
your mouth.” 

I Ibiiiid his words true ; and on parting, he gave 
me one of his two fiddles, which he valued as much 
as any piece of property he possessed. But I am 
forestalling events. We had been cruising about 
for severm days in search of Myers, when, one 
morning at daybreak, we found ourselves in the 
midst of a dense fog. ‘ It was literally so thick 
that one could not see from one end of the cutter 
to the other. Just the sort of weather, indeed, 
when, without unusual care, vessels arc apt to run 
into each other. There was about wind sufficient 
to send us gliding through the water at the rate of 
three to four knots an hour, but the sea was per- 
fectly smooth, — kept down, it seemed, by the very 
weight of the fog. One hand was stationed for- 
ward on the look-out, and two others on either 


NEIL d’aRCY^S life AT SEA. 


61 


quarter^ lo guard against our being run into, or our 
running into soinetning else. The wind was about 
west, and our whereabouts was, as nearly as could 
be, half w^ay between Portland Bill and Berry 
Head. We were all on deck in our thick Flushing 
coats, for the fog in its effects was nearly like a 
sliower-bath in regard to wetting us, and it hung 
in large drops like heavy dew on many a tarpaulin 
hat, bushy whisker, and shaggy jacket; while tlie 
sails were stiff and wet as if it liad been raining 
hard all night. It was not a pleasant morning but 
it might certainly have been very much worse in 
a hundred ways. We ran on for a couple of horn's, 
with our main-boom over the larboard quarter, the 
tack triced up, and the peak-halyards eased off, for 
we had no reason to hurry, it was just about 
striking five-bells in the morning-watch, 'when, as 
I happened to cast my eyes ahead, I thought I saw 
a dark object looming through the mist. The look- 
out saw her at the same moment. “A sail on the 
starboard bow,” he sung out in a low voice — for 
revenue men learn to be cautious. On hearing 
this, the Commander stepped forward, and I fol- 
lowed him. We could just distinguish through 
the mist the three sails of a long, low lugger, 
standing close-hauled to the norward. 

“ By J upiter, there’s the Kitty at last I” exclaimed 
my uncle, rubbing his hands. “We’ll have her 
this time, however.” 

There could be but little doubt that, if she was 
the Kitty ^ her people would be keeping too bright 
a look out not to have seen us ; but probably they 
fancied we had not observed them, for thejr did not 
alter their course, which would have carried them 
ilear across our bows. For another minute, we 
stood on as before, thus rapidly drawing nearer 
the stranger. During this time, our guns were 
6 


62 


SALl watek; or, 


cast loose, and pointed and primed, and matches 
got ready to fire, in case she should prove to he the 
binu^ygler, and refuse to heave to. 

‘‘Let the mainsail jibe over — down with the 
tack— hoist the fore-sail,” sung out the Commander 
in a brisk tone. “ Be smart, my lads ; set the gaii- 
topsail. Stand by, to haul in the main-sheet.” 

These orders were issued just as the lugger 
was about to cross our bows ; but our helm being 
put down, prevented her from accomplishiug this 
purpose ; and a shot, sent skimming along the sea 
ahead of her, showed her that we were wide awake. 
All hands who had time to turn their heads in her 
direction, were peering at her through the fog, and 
the general opinion was, that she was no other than 
the long-sought-for Kitty. To the shot she paid 
not the slightest attention, hoping to forereach us, 
probably, and to get away in the fog. The chances 
were much in her favour, unless we could wing 
her, for some little time to come ; but after that, 
we should get her into the bay, and then we might 
jam her down into the bight and catch her. 

“ Give her another shot across her fore-foot, Mr. 
Waddilove,” cried the Commander. “If she does 
not pay attention to that, fire right into her, and 
we will try to knock away some of her spars.” 

“Ay-ay, sir,” answered the gunner, right wil- 
lingly, as he hurried to perform liis duty. 

She did not seem to regard the second shot with 
more respect than the first. There was now no doubt 
that she was a smuggler, and that she knew us to 
be a royal cruiser, but whether the Kitty or not 
still remained to be discovered. We accordingly, 
without ceremony, set to work in earnest to make 
her a target for our shot ; but though we believed 
that we hulled her several times, and swept her 
deck, we could not manage to knock away any of 


NEIL D’aRCY’s life AT SEA 


6y 

our rigging or spars. Fast as we fancied the Ser- 
pent^ the chase, whatever she was, could, we soon 
tound, show as fleet a pair of heels ; and this made 
us doubly anxious to wing her, lest by the fog 
coming clown thicker she might disappear alto- 
gether. FTot a sound was heard from her, except 
the shar^) pat as our shot at intervals stnick her; 
n »r did she offer other thmi the passive resistance 
of refusing to heave to. Mi last, so faint was her 
outline as she glided onwards on our starboard 
bow, that I could scarcely help fancying that we 
were attacking a mere unsubstantial phantom. It 
was only from the large size she appeared to be 
that one could judge of her nearness to us. For 
some minutes we ran on without a syllable being 
uttered, except the necessary words of command 
for loacling and firing the guns. 

“ Now let me see if I can hit the fellow,” ex- 
claimed Hanks, growing impatient at our want of 
success ; and, stooping down and taking a steady 
look along the gun, he fired. A fearful shriek was 
the answer sent back from the lugger’s deck. She 
was standing on as before, her rigging untouched, 
and her hull apparently unharmed. That souncl 
must have been the death-cry of some of her crew. 
An almost solemn silence followed, and then, as if 
slumbering hitherto, the fury of the smugglers 
burst forth, and a shower of shot from great guns 
and musketry came flying about us. It was evi- 
dent that she was prepared to resist to the last. 
We now found that we had been underrating her 
strength. Our two other guns w^ere run over to 
the starboard side, the smml-arms were got up on 
deck and loaded, and cutlasses w^ere buckled on, 
and all hands not required to work t]\e guns began 
blazing away with the muskets. 

“How do you like the smell of gunpowder, my 


64 SALT WATER; OR, 

boy V' asked Hanks, as he was driving down hia 
ramrod. 

“ As for the smell, 1 can’t say that 1 have any 
objection to it,” I replied, laughing ; ‘‘ and for the 
shot, they don’t seem likely to do ns much harm.” 

“ Don’t be too sure of that till the gims of the 
enemy are silenced,” he replied. 

Scarcely had he sp^^en, when I heard a deep 
gi'oan ; and oh how heart turned sick within 
me, as I saw a poor fellow writhing in agony on 
the deck. A round-shot had torn away his chest 
and ribs. He gave a few convulsive struggles, and 
all was over. It was the first time I had ever seen 
death in any form, or even blood spilt, and for the 
moment, I felt so faint that I thought I should have 
fallen ; but Hanks roused me, by calling for a 
loaded musket, and in a few moments those dread- 
ful sensations went ofif, never again to return. Two 
of his messmates drew the dead body out of the 
way, and then returned to their gun without appa- 
rently taking further notice of the matter. Our 
Commander was all life and ardour, urging on the 
men to activity, while he kept a watchful eye on 
our opponent, to take advantage of any accident 
which might happen to her, or to follow any 
change in her course. It is difficult to describe the 
scene our decks presented. Though our guns were 
light, the men, from habit, had stripped themselves 
to the waist, and each one had bound a silk hand- 
kerchief round his loins, and another round his 
head, — their figures, even at a little distance, being 
obscured by the thick fog and smoke from their 
guns and the small-arms. All the guns were over 
on the starboard side, and those not required to 
work them or tend to the sails were either loading 
or taking aim over the bulwarks at our phantom 
foe. I did not dare to look at the dead body which 


NEIL D'ARCY'S life AT SEA. 


66 


laj near me, and was praying tliat no one eifeo 
might be hit, when I lieard a sharp tap, and oia 
Thole, who was standing with his musket at his 
shoulder by my side, fell to the deck. I stooped 
down, shuddering, for I expected to see such an- 
other ghastly spectacle as the other poor wretch 
had presented ; but lie looked as calm as possible, 
as if nothing was the matter with him, and I began 
to wonder why he had faljbn. He had not even 
uttered a cry or groan. 

“ What is the matter. Thole — are you hit I 
asked. 

Hanks heard me speak, , and, seeing Thole on 
the deck, he knelt down by his side and took his 
hand. 

“ There’s no use, my lad, in talking to the poor 
fellow, for he’ll never speak another word,’^ he 
said, in a calm tone, as if nothing sh-ange or awful 
had occurred; and, rising cpiickly, he seized a 
musket and recommenced firing away at the lug- 
ger with renewed earnestness. 

‘‘ Come, my lads, fire away ; w^e must put a 
stopper on this w^ork as soon as .possible,” he ex- 
claimed. 

“ Hurrah ? see, we’ve shot away his mizen-hal- 
yards.” 

I did not see it, for I could make nothing out 
through the fog but a dark mass moving along on 
our beam. The order had been given to keep the 
helm up and to stand by the main-sheet, in expec- 
tation of the lugger’s running off the wind, when, 
cpiick almost as tliought, the mizeii-halyards were 
S2-)liced, and the sail was again hoisted up. 

“Hever mind, my lads; try and wing him 
again,” cried my uncle. 

The men answered with a cheer, and several of 
)ur shot told, TJnhappily, two more of our people 

6 * 


86 


SALT WATEB ; OB, 


were wounded, though not badly ; and as yet we 
were no nearer victory than we had been at the 
commencement of the fight. I lieard my uncle tell 
Hanks that he had some hopes that the smugglers 
were not aware how deep we were running into 
tlie bay. 

“ I’m afraid, sir, those fellows are far too wide 
awake not to know exactly where they are,” an- 
swered Hanks. ^ 

‘‘ I rather am inclined to think that they have 
some dodge or other they intend to practise if they 
can; and if we don’t soon manage to stop them, 
they will be wishing us good morning without our 
leave.” 

For an instant after he spoke there was a cessa- 
tion of firing, and then came a whole broadside of 
great guns and small-arms concentrated in one fo- 
cus, crashing among our rigging. Several of the 
shot told — the head of the main-sail was riddled, 
and down came our peak, the halyards shot away 
in two places. The smugglers were not long in 
discovering our disaster, and the advantage they 
had gained, and- a loud derisive cheer showed us 
the triumph they felt. Without the loss of a mo- 
ment, hands were sent aloft to reeve fresh halyards, 
but before the peak could be got up, the lugger 
had shot ahead of us, and was rapidly edging up 
to windward. Every exertion was made again to 
set the mainsail, but as we were swaying up the 
peak another iron shower caine rattling among us. 
One of the hands aloft was hit, and would have 
fallen on deck had not another caught him and 
helped him down the rigging. It was the last 
broadside the smuggler fired, and the next instant 
we saw him shoot by our bows, and before we 
could get a gun over to bear on him, he disap- 
peared in the fog to the northward. Once web to 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 6T 

windward lie would have a decided advantage 
over us on a long stretch. Luffing as close to the 
wind as we could, we stood on for a few minutes in 
the hope of again seeing him, and then we tacked, 
on the chance, should he also have tacked, as he 
probably would do, of overhauling him on the 
other board. We now more earnestly than ever 
wished the fog to clear away to give us a wider 
view ; but yet, minute aftfr minute passed away, 
and still it would pertinaciously hang down over 
us like a thick canopy, shutting out the surround- 
ing world. My uncle and Hanks, who both had 
seen much of gun-shot wounds, did their best to 
doctor the poor fellows who had been hit; the 
bodies of the two men who were killed, were 
placed side by side abaft the mast, and covered up 
with a union jack, and we then piped to breakfast. 
I had not recovered my appetite, which the scenes 
I had witnessed during the morning had taken 
away. Hanks rallied me on my sensibility. “ Why, 
my boj^, you should get over all those sort of feel- 
ings at a leap, or you’ll never be fit for the service. 
I remember once upon a time having some of the 
queer sensations you talk of, but now, whatever 
happens, I never let it interfere with my meals, 
provided I can get the food to make them of.’’ In- 
stigated by his example and remarks, I took a lit- 
tle tea, and then a slice of beef and bread, and I 
confess, that in a few' minutes I began to experi- 
ence my usual midshipman-like state of perfect 
health, with perhaps a little weight about the re- 
gion of the heart, as if some calamity had Inmpened 
to me, but that very soon wore olf. We were 
speedily on deck again, looking out for the chase, 
while in the mean time the carpenter and most of 
Jie crew w'ere busily employed in repairing dam- 
ages. The sun as he rose higher in the sky, waa 


68 


SALT water; or, 


eveiy instant gaining power, and in almost an 
hour after we lost sight of the smuggler, he victo- 
riously darted through the mass of vapour which 
in thick wreaths rolled a^vay before it, our hitherto 
confined horizon every instant increasing, while the 
bright beams of the luminary struck down on our 
blood-stained deck. !No vessel, however, appeared 
in the direction we expected, but as Hanks was 
glancing round the h(fbizon, his eye fell on a sail, 
hull down to the eastw^ard. “ There she is,” he 
exclaimed ; ‘‘ I should know her among a hundred 
other craft. D’Arcy, run below and tell the Com- 
mander that to my belief the Kitty is in sight down 
to leeward.” 

My uncle had gone to take his breakfast ; I de- 
scended to the cabin — found him sitting with his 
face resting on hia, hands on the table. He did 
not notice my entrance. J heard him groan deeply. 

“ I hope, sir, you are not ill, or wounded,” said 
I — ^for I thought he must be hurt. 

“No, lad, no,” he answered; “but it’s a sad 
thing to have so many of one’s men killed and 
hurt by a rascally smuggler. But we must try and 
catch the fellow, and then get the doctor’s aid as 
fast as we can for those to whom it may yet be of 
use. But what do you come for ?” 

I made my report. In an instant he shook off 
the feeling which was oppressing him, and spring- 
ing on deck he ordered tlie helm to be kept up, and 
the main-sheet eased off till we were standing after 
the supposed smuggler. This was our best point 
of sailing, and probably the lugger’s worst, at all 
events that lig of vessel has generally the greatest 
advantage on a wind. Our square-sail, square top- 
sail, and every sail the cutter could carry was now 
iet, to overtake the chase, and the breeze freshen 


NEIL d'aKCy’s life AT SEA. 89 

ing as tlie day advanced, we bowled away at a fa* 
mo us rate. 

“ Do you think, Hanks, we liave a chance of 
catching lier ?” I asked, as the old mate and I were 
intently watching her. 

“ As to catching her, depends upon circum- 
stances ; if we get the strength of the breeze 
before her, and she does’nt hide away in another 
fog — but she has a long ^art, and we are out of 
' luck this time, to m}- mind. However, why is it, 
D’Arcy, yon are so anxious to have another brush 
with the chap ? I thought you had had sufficient 
taste of his quality.” 

“ To punish him for killing poor Thole, there,” 
answered I, for I felt very bitter against the smug- 
glers for the harm they had done. 

“ I thought so,” answered Hanks ; “ its the way 
with most people. Before a blow is struck, they 
are all peaceable enough ; but the moment blood 
is drawn, they are all as bloodthirsty as a savage.” 

“ I hope you don’t think me a bloodthirsty sav- 
age,” said I. 

“ I wouldn’t trust you, D’Arcy, my boy,” he re- 
plied. ‘‘ When the blood boils, all the ferocity of 
the heart bubbles up to the top, and we feel more 
like wild beasts than men. Especially, I would 
never trust to your peace advocates ; they are the 
worst of all.” 

“ Are we gaining on the chase, Mr. Hanks, think 
you?” sung out my uncle at this moment. 

“ A little ; but the sky has got so much clearer 
thereaway in the last half hour, that perhaps she 
only appears nearer,” was the answer ; and then 
Hanks went aft, to walk the quarter-deck with hia 
commander. 

There is off Portland Bill a race, or overfall of 
water, caused by a shallow and rocky bottom, 


70 


SALT water; or, 

where the sea at times breaks so violently that 
vessels have been known to be swamped, and to go 
down amid tlie turmoil, with scarcely a possibility 
of any of the hapless crew escaping. During south- 
westerly gales, and with an ebb tide, the race runs 
the highest; but sometimes, even in moderate 
weather, without any apparent cause, there is a 
strange chopping and leaping of the sea, which 
makes it dangerous for a small vessel to pass 
through. The faint outline of the well-known- 
headland was now seen on our larboard bow, and 
it was pretty evident that the lugger was getting 
her starboard tacks aboard, to haul oif round the 
outside of the race, if not to stand away towards 
the French coast. We, accordingly, had to alter 
our course after her ; but I suspected that there was 
no very great chance of our being able to overtake 
her. Still we stood on, our main hope being that 
another cruiser might fall in with her, and turn her 
again towards us. After the fog had disappeared, 
the sky overhead became beautifully clear ; but, 
as the day drew on, clouds began to gather ; and 
by the time I went down to dinner they were com- 
ing up pretty thick from the south-west and south, 
rather an unusual circumstance after the sort of 
morning we had had. While we were discussing 
our meal, the cutter heeled over, and nearly sent 
our scanty dinner-service away to leeward. 

“ Ilillo, what’s the matter now ?” I asked. 

“ Matter ! why the breeze is freshening, to be 
sure,” said old Growl, our acting master. “ Look 
out for your plates, and when you go on deck it 
will be time enough to learn all about it.” 

Old Growl was in many respects not dissimilar 
to Hanks. He was of the same age, if not older — as 
fond of spirits, if not fonder — and as addicted, in- 
deed I think more so, to grumbling. He was not 


KEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


71 


a gentleman by birth, education, or manners; but 
he was kind of heart, and I liked him very well. 
I think I remarked that all the officers were very 
old for their standing. Growl’s hair was white, 
and so was Scriven^s, the clerk in charge. I was 
young enough to be the son of any of them, in fact, 
and was treated almost as such. Fortunately, my 
uncle did his best to thro-w responsibility on my 
shoulders, so that, in spite of the pains they took 
to spoil me, I gradually learned to think and act 
for myself. Dinner was over, for the best of rea- 
sons* — that we had eaten up all our boiled beef and 
potatoes, and the greater portion of our last cheese ; 
and I was thinking how much pleasanter it was to 
be sitting there quietly, and nibbling bisQuit and 
sipping my glass of grog, than standing up to be 
shot at, as 1 had to do all the morning, when 
Hanks, whose watch it had been on deck, came 
below. His eye immediately fell on my tumbler 
of grog, which was, I own, stitfer than usual, and, 
wiUiout saying a word, he emptied half the con- 
tents into another, and, drinking them off, filled 
my glass with water. I dared not remonstrate, for 
I had been ti-aiisgressing his orders in taking more 
than the quantity he allowed me. 

“ l^eil, my, child,” he used to say, “ drink is a 
bad thing ; and it grows upon a fellow. If you 
were to take your full allowance now, by the time 
you grow up you would be a drunkard, so for your 
sake I shall swallow your grog ; besides, you know, 
what is bad for a little chap like you, is good for 
an old worn-out fellow like me, who wants some- 
thing to keep his soul alive in his body.” 

I did not exactly understand his reasoning ; but 
as, notwithstanding his peculiarities, I was fond of 
my old messmate, I was well content to yield him 


72 


«ALT WATER; OR, 


ap part of my allowance, for the sake of keeping 

him alive. i ojj i 

“ Well, Hanks, are we gainingon the chase f 1 

asked. 

*‘No, boy; but our confounded ill luck has 
gained upon us,’’ he replied. ‘‘ The wind has tak- 
en it into its head to veer round to the south-west, 
and given the rascally lugger an advantage she 
doesn’t deserve. Boy, bring me dinner.” 

The boy who acted as steward brought him in 
his portion of beef, which had been saved, and 1 
followed Growl, whose watch it was on deck. The 
sea had got up considerably, and the cutter was 
heeling over to the rapidly increasing breeze.^ An 
exclamation irom Growl made me look anxiously 
ahead for the lugger. 

“ Where is she he asked of the (piartermaster, 
who had charge of the deck. 

‘‘ Just slip})ed into that bank of clouds gather- 
ing in the southward, sir,” was the answer. 

Can any of you see her,” he inquired of the 
people on deck. 

“ No sir, no ; not a sign of her,” said several 
voices. 

“Then we shan’t see her again this cruise,” he 
'exclaimed. 

Ho more we did. We followed her, notwith- 
standing, for some hours, when, darkness approach- 
ing and the wind increasing, we were obliged to 
bear up and run into Weymouth, where we an- 
chored at a late hour in the night. The next day 
we buried our two shipmates, and a surgeon came 
oil* to attend to the wounded ones, whom he took 
on shore with him. A gale got up, which lasted 
three days, during which time we remained at an- 
chor, ready, as soon as it should moderate, to put to 
sea again in quest of Myers. The engagement 


NEIL D'ARCY'S LIFE AT SEA. 7S 

with the smuggler made a good deal of noise, we 
heard. Some said that we ought to have taken 
her ; others, that our commander was not a man 
to leave undone what could have been and ought 
to have been done. However, as no one had any 
doubt that Myers was in command of the lugger, 
a large reward was ottered to whoever would give 
information that might lead to his apprehension, 
and a still larger to the person who should place 
him, bound, in the hands of justice. One evening, 
after dark, a small boat came along side, with a 
single man in her. I was on deck. 

“ Is Lieutenant O’Flaherty on board ?” asked the 
man. 

I told him he was. 

“ Then,” said the sti’anger, springing on board, 
“ take this note to him, young gentleman, and say 
the bearer waits to see him.” 

The stranger was of a strongly built, stout ligu re, 
and had Ihe appearance of a rough seafaring man. 
I took a paper he handed me into the cabin. My 
uncle read it attentively two or three times over, 
as if puzzled to comprehend its meaning. 

“ I must see the rascal, and hear what he has to 
say,” he muttered. “ But I never like to trust a 
traitor. Show the man below, D’Arcy.” 

I did as I was ordered. The man bowed as he 
entered, and then I saw him take a chair and seat 
himself without being asked to do so. J longed to 
hear what he had to say, so I lingered in the cabin, 
as if waiting for orders. The stranger looked at 
me hard. 

What I have to say is for your ear, Lieuten 
ant ; so I can’t speak with another present, though 
he is but a little one,” he remarked, in a tone J 
thought remarkably impudent. 

“ Keil, go on deck,” said my uncle. 


74 


SALT WATER; OR, 


In about half an hour the stranger appeared on 
deck, and, without saying a word, jumped into his 
boat and pulled away. I observed that he did not 
pull directly for the shore, but that he steered for 
a considerable distance to the northward before at- 
tempting to land, thus not allowing any one who 
might meet him to suspect that he had visited us. 
The mysterious stranger afibrded considerable mat- 
ter for surmise among all on board, the general 
opinion being that he had brought off some impor- 
tant information, which might lead to the capture 
of Myers, or of some of his smuggling confederates- 


CHAPTER VI. 

EXPEDITION ON SHOEE THE INFOEMEE’s FATE — THE. SMUQ- 

GLEe’S GAVE — JACK STEETCHEE THE SMUGGLEE’s EEVENGB 

— OUE DEEADFUL POSITION. 

The Serpent WSL& again in West Bay, just near 
enough to Portland Bill to be distinguished by any 
one looking out for her ; and she was standing 
with a light breeze from the north-east, as it* bound 
across channel. We stood on till dusk, and then 
tacked and worked back into the bay, till we got 
close in with the Dorsetshire coast. The cutter 
was now hove to, and the boats were lowered and 
manned, all hands being well armed. 

“Mr. Hanks,” said my uncle, as he came on 
deck, “ you will take charge of the shif , and keep 
her as near as possible to where she now is : 1 ex- 
pect to be absent about an hour.” 

Hanks gave the usual “ Aye, aye, sir,” and then 
continued the duty he was about in superintending 
lowering the boats. I seized the opportunity, 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 76 

while lie was waiting for the final preparations, to 
go up and speak to mj uncle. 

‘‘May I go, sir I asked. “ If there is any thing 
to be done, I should like to see it.” 

“We shall only find hard knocks and little glo- 
ry,” he replied. “ However, a midshipman should 
see every thing. Can you spare Mr. H’Arcy, Mr. 
Hanks V' 

“ Oh yes, sir, if you please,” said Hanks, laugh- 
mg. 

I had, at first, felt very grand at the way my 
ancle spoke of me; but there was something in 
Hanks’s tone of voice which considerably lowered 
my pride; however, I gained my object, and, 
jumping into the first gig with my commander, 
the order was given to shove ofi:‘, and away we 
pulled towards the shore. 

There was no moon, but the sky was clear, and 
the stars overhead shone brightly forth into the 
calm, silent water beneath them. I never saw the 
water smoother; and the little wind there was 
came ofi:‘ the shore, gently sighing as it passed over 
the dry grass and low bushes which fringed the 
edge of the clifis above our heads. Hot a word 
was spoken, and our oars were muffled, as we 
pulled along shore, a considerable distance to the 
westward of where we left the cutter. There were 
three boats, so we all knew it was^ possible some 
considerable opposition might .be expected. 

After we had pulled about three or four miles, 
our commander ordered two of the boats to remain 
off shore, the crews resting on their oars, till they 
should see a blue light burned ; they were then to 
give way as fast as they could, and support us if 
necessary. We then pulled slowly in, our people 
being told to make as little noise as possible on 
beaching the boat. 


76 


SALT water; or, 


“Neil,” said my uncle, “ we have a chance of 
catching that accomplished rascal, Myers, through 
the means of another rascal, who has oliered to be- 
tray him, and who is to meet us off that point 
yonder, and to conduct us where Myers and his 
gang are to be found. If we come to blows, at 
any time, just keep behind me, boy, and don’t be 
after getting yourself killed or hurt, or I’ll never 
take you to see any more fun, remember that.” 

It was clear, by this remark, that my uncle had 
not forgotten the old country ; and I promised to 
obey his directions. 

In a few minutes the bow of the boat touched 
the shore, and we, by aid of a boat-hook, jumped 
on the sand. Ordering two of the men to accom- 
pany him, and giving directions to the others to 
keep silence, and on no account to quit the boat, 
our commander advanced towards the foot of the 
cliff. We went on some little way, without meet- 
ing anybody. 

“ It’s very extraordinary,” he observed, in a low 
voice ; “ I cannot have mistaken the spot or the 
hour. It was just here the man Langdon appoints 
ed to meet me.” W e halted for some minutes and 
listened attentively, but not a sound was to be 
heard, except the low, soft, and musical lap of the 
tide as it glided by the shingly beach. Above us 
was the lofty cliff’, beetling over our heads, its dark 
outline well defined against the brilliant sky. 

“ Something, I’m afraid, is wrong,” remarked 
my uncle ; “ or, can the fellow have been imposing 
on me ♦ 

JIaving waited for some time in vain, we again 
advanced. We had not gone many paces when a 
figure was seen leaning against the cliffs ; the per- 
son, apparently, from his not moving at our ap- 
proach, was fast asleep. 


NEiL d'aRGY’S life AT SEA. 77 

“That mast be the fellow Langdoii,” said my 
uncle. “ Why, what can he be about?’’ On this 
he whistled twice, very softly ; but there was no 
answer. We then hurried up to the spot where the 
ligure was observed. It was no optical illusion ; 
there certainly was a person, but he took no notice 
of our presence. Our two men then went up to 
uim, thinking to awake him ; but as they took him 
by the arms he slipped from their grasp and fell to 
the ground. An exclamation of horror made ua 
hurry up to them. It was a corpse we saw : a dark 
spot on the tbrehead, from which a stream of blood, 
rapidly coagulating, oozed forth : his singed hair, 
and the black marks on one side of his face, showed 
how the deed had been done. It was evident that 
he had been shot by a pistol placed close to his 
head. 

“He hasn’t been dead above a quarter of an 
hour,” observed Stretcher, one of the men, feeling 
his heart ; “ he is still warm, sir.” 

“ Then his murderers cannot be far off,’’ said my 
uncle. “I’ll land our people, and we will hunt 
them down. The poor wretch could scarcely ex 
pect any other fate, were he discovered.” 

“ What — do you know the man, sir ?” I asked. 

“ Yes ; he is the informer, Langdon ; the verj 
man who was to have conducted us to Myers’s re- 
treat,” was the answer. 

“ Here, sir, is a bit of card tied round the man’s 
neck, and close to him was this pistol and hand- 
kerchief,” said Tomkins — who had placed the body 
on the sands — ^bringing him the articles. 

“ Very well : do you take charge of those things, 
Tomkins, and on no account lose them. D’Arcy, 
do you go back with Sims to the boat, — burn a 
blue light close down to the water, shade it by the 
boat’s side so that it may not be seen from the 
7 * 


78 


SALT WATEE; OB, 


cliffs above, and then, as soon as tlie boats come in, 
order two bands to remain in each, and bring the 
rest up here.” 

“ Aye, aye, sir,” I replied with alacrity, for I wat 
always proud of having any orders given me by mv 
uncle ; and away I and Sims hurried towards the 
boat. We had not got many paces before a shout 
from Jack Stretcher, made us turn back, and at the 
same moment several men came leaping down by 
a narrow path in the side of the clifi.” 

Kun in — they are smugglers — run in !” cried 
Sims, setting the example, and shouting to our 
people in tlie boat. It was the wisest thing he 
could do to get help, for the man was no coward ; 
hut before 1 had time to think whether or not I 
could run down to my uncle, I found myself 
knocked down by one of the foremost of the new 
comers, with a no very complimentary remark to 
midshipmen in general, and to me in particular. 
What became of Sims I could not teU, for the blow 
on my head made me feel inclined to keep my eyes 
shut. When, after a moment or so, I attempted to 
rise, I found myself seized by a couple of men. My 
arms were lashed behind me in a very uncomforta- 
ble way, and which reminded me of the necessity 
of not tumbling down, if I was anxious to preserve 
the regular outline of my nose, while a handker- 
chief was secured tightly over my eyes. Directly 
afterwards I heard a scuffle, and my uncle’s voice 
among that of many others; blows were struck, 
and two or three pistols were fired ‘ and then there 
appeared more scuffling, and all was quiet, except 
the suppressed murmur of, apparently, many 
voices as I was dragged forward by the people 
who held me. We went along the seashore for 
some way, and then up the clifis; and next we 
descended, and I was led along what ^jeeined *a 


NEIL l’AKCY’S life AT SEA. 79 

narrow path, by the careful way in which my coiv 
ductors stepped. We went over certainly more 
than a mile of ground, and then wa halted till oth- 
er parties came up, and I was led down a gentle 
declivity, on a soft, sandy soil ; but 1 no longer felt 
the light cool wind blowing on my cheek, from 
wliich 1 conjectured we were leaving the open air. 

Scarcely a word had been spoken to me the 
whole of this time by any one of the party. I 
once ventured to. ask my conductors where they 
were going to take me ; but the answer I got in a 
low growl — ‘‘Hold your tongue, you young 
whelp !” and the click of a pistol lock — made me 
unwilling to enter on another question. I was 
mu^e seriously alarmed about my uncle ; for my- 
self I feared nothing, as 1 did not think that the 
smugglers would hurt a young boy like me ; but 
from the manner of their proceeding, and the few 
words they let fall of concentrated hate and anger, 
I was afraid that, supposing they were the crew oi 
the Kitty^ they might wu-eak their vengeance on 
his head and murder him. I had become deeply 
attached to him. I felt miserable at the thought 
of his danger, and I earnestly, though silently, 
prayed for his preservation. After we had gone a 
little way I was almost convinced, from the damp, 
stagnant feel of the atmosphere, that w^e were in a 
cavern or a large vault of some sort or other. I 
was confirmed in this opinion by hearing a voice 
before me say, “Stoop down your head, or you 
will hit the rock.” 

1 thought he addressed me, so I bent down, as 
it I were passing under a very low archway, wlien 
my conductors laughed, and one observed to the 
other, “Tlie youngster thinks himself a giant; 
liowsomever he won’t ever be much bigger than 
he now is, will he, Jim f ’ 


80 


SALT water; OB, 


“ No ; lie’s nibbled his last biscuit,” growled out 
bis companion. “ Come, heave ahead, master.” 

On hearing these last observations I had stopped, 
scarcely able to make my feet move on ; for 1 
thought the villains were going to ti’eat me as they 
had treated the poor wretch we had just found,- tor 
I had no doubt they were his murderers. They 
again urged me forward, and I presently found 
myself in a place, surrounded by a number ot 
people — at least, so I judged by the suppressed 
hum of voices wdiich I heard. 

“ Cast off the handkerchiefs from the prisoners’ 
eyes,” said a voice in an authoritative tone. 

I felt a fellow fumbling at the handkerchief 
round my head ; but pretending, I suspect, that he 
could not undo it, he forced it down over my face, 
to the considerable damage of my nose, and then, 
giving his knuckles a turn with the dexterity 
of a Thug, very nearly throttled me. When I had 
somewhat recovered, and the stars had done flying 
about before my eyes, I perceived that I was in a 
large cave, standing at the foot of a rude table, 
at the further end of which sat a powerfully- 
built, bold-looking man, dressed in a nautical cos- 
tume, while a number of other men, mostly sea- 
men, sat on either side of him. 

. I looked anxiously round jtbr my uncle, and my 
mind was much relieved to see him standing, un- 
hurt, apparently, a few paces from me. However, 
my satisfaction was much mitigated when, being 
able to distinguish objects more dearly, I perceived 
that there were two men standing on either side ol 
him, with pistols in their hands; and it instantly 
occurred to me that they were there to act the part 
of executioners, and to blow his brains out, at the 
command of the ruflian I saw sitting as judge in 
this lawless court. We recognized each other ay 


NEIL d’ARCY^S life AT REA. 


81 


the same moment; and. if I conld judge by ;he 
expression of liis countenance, he had more com- 
passion for .me than fear for himself. He made no 
attempt to speak to )ne, but insiantly resumed his 
former uudaiiiited attiiiide, with his arms folded on 
his bosom, and his eye resting on the leader of tlie 
smugglers. 

But there was another object, wliich was, indeed, 
well calculated to hll me with horror — it was the 
corpse of the murdered Juan, stretched out on some 
rough planks, resting on four casks placed on end; 
the face uncc>vered and bloody ; the eyes staring 
wide open, for no one had taken the trouble to 
close them ; and the features distorted by the 
wound, or, perhaps, by fear of the fate which ho 
saw prepared for him, when his murderers ap- 
j)eared. 1 lie corpse was close to me, and I codd 
not keep my eyes from it, dreadful as it was. It 
seemed to possess a terrible fascination ; and every 
time 1 turned my eyes away, it attracted them 
back again ; so that, wild and remarkable as was 
the whole scene, that horrible object is to this day 
the most prominent to my mental vision, and all 
the rest is but an indistinct background to the 
picture. 

I found that Jack Stretcher was close to me, on 
my left side, also in custody of two smugglers. 
The cave itself was a complete storehouse of goods 
of every description. There were arms, swords, 
pistols, muskets, — and bales of silks, boxes of laces 
and ribbons, and casks of spirits ; indeed, every 
thing with a high duty on it was here collected, 
ready to be sent up to London, or through the 
country, to the highly resj>eGtable shops which dealt 
in such things, i had not time, however, to make 
many observations, when the fierce ruffian at the 
head of the table commenced the proceedings by 


82 


SALT water; or, 

inquiring who we were, and what was our object 
in coming on shore that night. 

“ You know perfectly well who we Rre ; and, 
with regard to our object on shore, you certainly 
are not qiuililied to question me,” answered ray 
uncle, with a lirm voice. 

Then I must answer for you,” replied the smug- 
gler. “You came, instigated by a wretch whose 
body lies there, under the hope of taking me and 
\ my men in our nest. He has received his reward. 
The very moment he was thinking he had got us 
secure, a pistol bullet went through his head. 
What do you think you deserve V’ 

My uncle did not answer. 

“Speak, and answer me !” exclaimed the ruflian, 
levelling a pistol at him, 

I tried to spring forward to thi’ow myself before 
him, but the smugglers held me back, though the 
action, instead of niaking them angry, seemed to 
gain me more respect from them, as they held me 
less rudely than before, and no longer amused 
themselves by twisting the liandker chief. Thug 
fashion, round my gullet. 

My uncle loqked calmly at the smuggler and an- 
swered, “I came on shore in pursuit of my lawful 
duty, to apprehend you, or any others, breaking 
tlie I’e venue laws. Further than that, I 'have no 
feeling of ill-will against you, or any of those con- 
nected with you.” 

“Yery tine talking, Mr. Lieutenant; but that 
won’t do here. You came to injure us ; there’s no 
doubt about that, from what you own yourself, and 
you must take the consequences.” 

“You will suffer for it, if you injure me, or any 
of my people !” exclaimed my uncle, indignantly. 

“ iV e don’t want to hurt any of your people ; but 
you and that young cub of an oflicer must be pre* 


NEIL d’AECY’s life AT SEA. 


83 


pared to die this very night. Your man there we 
don’t intend to hurt ; and he may, if he likes, join 
us, which he probably will be glad enough to do ; 
if not, we carry him away over the water, far 
enough from this.” 

“ ]No, that I won’t, you cold-hearted scoundrels, 
you !” exclaimed J ack Stretcher, vehemently. 

My commander there, I tell you, is a truer and 
braver man than any one of you ; and you to think 
of murdering him, because he is doing his duty, 
and that young innocent boy, his nephew — a mere 
baby to any of you — it just shows what a white- 
livered crew you smugglers are; but, howsom- 
dever, if you’ll let them go without harm, you may 
]nake a shot fast to my feet and heave me over the 
cliffs outside here^ or do what you like with me ; 
you can but kill me, and I don’t fear you, — so 
heave ahead, my hearties.” 

This address of Jack Stretcher created some con- 
siderable sensation among the smugglers ; but their 
chief seemed immovable. What surprised me 
most was, that they were not in the slightest de- 
gree enraged at the abuse showered so liberally on 
their heads ; but, on the contrary, they infinitely 
admired him for his fearlessness and fidelity to his 
superior. 

“ What you say, my man, can’t be done ; those 
two die, for conspiring with a traitor to betray us. 
We (shall keep you shut up for some time, and then 
carry you over to America, perhaps, or some dis- 
tant part ; but we shan’t take your life ; so now 
you know what you have to expect. Take those 
two off, and heave them over High-Peak cliff. Be 
sharp about it, now.” 

Before my uncle could speak a word, or attempt 
to free himself, he was dragged back and pinioned, 
and I was treated in the same way : our eyes were 


84 


fiAlT ^^VTKR; OR, 


tiglitlj bandaged, as before, and we wei-e forced 
out of the cabiii hy a large body of the smugglers. 

“ jSTever fear, sir,” shouted Stretcher. ‘‘ They’ll 
hang for it yet, and I shall live to see you re- 
venged.” 

Extraordinary as it may a])pear, I had no par* 
ficnlar dread of the fate which was awaiting me. 
i'erhaps it was a i)resentiment that I should escape. 
1 cannot now ex])lain the cause of the feeling; in- 
deed, at the time, I could not probably have done 
80. I thought much more of my bi’ave unclb being 
thus brought to an untimely end, and of the grief 
of my sweet young aunt at Ryde, when she should 
hear of his barbarous murder. The atrocity of the 
deed was increased by tljte cold-blooded manner in 
which tlie wretches proceeded, by dragging us to 
their pretended c;ourt, and then* condemning us, 
with scarcely even the mockery of a trial. Indeed, 
the affair seemed so unusual that I could hardly 
believe in the reality. My most absorbing feeling 
was bitter indignation, and a burning desire to 
break from my guards, and to rescue my uncle. 
However, as I wriggled about helplessly in their 
grasp, I must own that I was very like an unliappy 
cockchafer stuck through with a pin by a cruel 
schoolboy, without the reinotest chance of escaping. 
My uncle was dragged away lirst, and I followed 
him closely, as I judged by the voices of the vil- 
lains who had him in charge. What became of 
Stretcher I could not learn, though I supposed that 
he was detained in tlie cavern. Even now, I could 
scarcely have believed that the smugglers were 
going really to put their threat into execution, had 
It not been for their acknowledgment of the mur- 
der they had committed, and the perfect confidence 
with which they exhibited their cavern, and the 
smuggled goods it contained; for, though taken 


NEIL l’aROY'S life AT SEA. 




bliiidiold to the place, we could of course have 
little dilhculty in liiiding it again ; and they must 
have been well aware that, if wo escaped, we 
should do our best to discover them and bring 
them to justice. They appeared to me to be drag- 
ging us for a very long distance. We went up 
and down hill, and along the seashore, and then Ave 
again mounted, it seemed, to the top of the cliffs, 
and vveiit over several miles of ground. I thought 
we should never get to lligh-Peak clilf. 1 cannot 
say that [ was in any hurry to get there, which is 
not surprising, considering the pleasant prospect 
which 1 had before me. At length we ascended a 
considerable height, it seemed; and 1 concluded, 
from what i heiird some of the smugglei’s remark, 
that we had reached the place of the intended mur- 
der. 1 shuddered as L felt that I was standing at 
the edge of the precipice from Avhich i was in a 
few minutes to be hurled : a cold perspiration burst 
out over me, and I felt an awful horror, such as 1 
had never before experienced. 1 was aware that 
any instant, without a moment’s })reparation, a 
shove might send me rolling over and over down 
to the rocks below, where i must instantly be 
dashed to pieces, as I judged that I was standing 
close to the very eage of the precipice ; and I even 
fancied that 1 could hear the sound of the water 
breaking on the sands, many hundred feet beneath, 
borne upward on the calm night air. Still, there 
1 stood, as yet unharmed, and 1 found the delay, 
was caused by some of the party, whose voices J 
could hear at a little distance, holding a consulta- 
tion in a whisper. I was hoping that they, more 
merciful than their leader, were proposing not to 
execute his directions, when I was undeceived by 
their return. One of them then addressed us. 

“We g’VG you and the youngster, lieutenant 


86 


SALT water; OB, 


three minutes more to prepare for death,” said the 
villain, in a diabolically cold tone ; ‘‘ after that, we 
intend to hang you over the cliff by your hands, 
and when you can’t gripe on any longer, you may 
let go. Just understand, now, we do this in mercy 
to you, that you may not say we sent you out of 
the world without warning. Youngster, you hear 
what is said, so just make ready, for you haven’t 
many moments of life in you.” 

To appeal to the mercy of the wretches was, I 
knew, hopeless ; so I did my best to prepare for 
the fate awaiting me. 

“ The time’s up,” said a voice, and -I' found my 
self urged back a few paces, and my feet lifted over 
the edge of the cliff. It is impossible to describe 
my sensations of horror at this moment. I was 
then lowered down, every instant expecting to be 
let drop, till I found my hands clutching the grass, 
and my nails digging into the uncertain soil which 
fringed it. I judged that my uncle had been treat- 
ed in the same way from what the smugglers said. 
They then left us, satisfied that we could not release 
ourselves. Bad as they were, perhaps they did 
not wish to witness our death, though I could hear 
their mocking laughter as they quitted the spot. 
I was light, and I held on for dear life. 

Uncle, are you there ?” I exclaimed. 

“ Yes, Neil, I am,” he answered ; “ but I air 
afraid of using any exertion to lift myself up, lest 
the earth should give way. You are light, though; 
so try to drag yourself slowly up by your arms, 
then get your elbows on the turf, and tear the ban- 
dage from your eyes, and come to my assistance.” 

“ Oh, I cannot, uncle, I cannot,” I cried, in an 
agony of fear ; for I found it impossible to move 
without almost a certainty of missing my hold alto- 
gether. Again I tried all I could to lift myself up, 


NEIL D ARCY'S LIFE AT SEA. S7 

but it ^voiild not do. I shouted at the top of my 
voice. Every instant my strength was failing me, 

“ I must let go, uncle, indeed 1 must,” I exclaim- 
ed. “ Good-bye, uncle.” 

^ “ So must I, my boy,” he answered. ‘‘ Good-bye, 
if we do not succeed ; but make a final effort, and 
spring up. So now .” 

I tried to spring up, and so did he, I conclude. 
Alas! the earth crumbled beneath his hands: a 
deep groan escaped his bosom — ^not for himself, but 
for his wife and children, and all he held dear in 
the world. He could hold on no longer. I also 
failed in my attempt to spring up. Down I went; 
but what was my surprise, instead of being dashed 
to pieces, to find that I had reached a bottom of 
some sort, rather s})lashy certainly, only a few feet 
below where I had been hanging. An exclama- 
tion at tlie same moment from my uncle reached 
my ears.' I tore otf the bandage from my eyes, 
and, looking round, I saw him but a short distance 
from me, and discovered that we were at the bot- 
tom of a chalkpit, with all our limbs safe and 
sound, instead of being both of us mangled corpses 
at the foot of Pligli-Peak clifi*. Our position was 
not dignified ; and cerlaiidy, though it was much 
less romantic and full of horror than it would have 
been had the catastrophe we expected really oc- 
curred, and had we figured in the newspapers as 
the subjects of a dreadful accident, it was, I must 
own, far more agreeable to my feelings. 

‘‘ Uncle,” I sung out, “ are you hurt ?” 

“ Ho, Heil, my boy ; but rather wet, from a 
puddle I’ve fallen into,” he answered. “So those 
confounded rascals have been playing us a trick all 
the time; however, it’s better thus than we ex- 
pected, and it proves that they are not as bad as 
we thought them.” 


88 


SALT water; or, 


“ So I was thinking,” I replied, moving uj[. to 
him. “ But, I say, uncle, how are we to get out 
of this?” 

He Avas sitting down on a ledge of the chalk 
rock, endeavouring to recover from the shock 
which his nervous system had received. 

“ Why, as I have not a notion where we are, we 
had better wait till daylight, or we shall run a great 
chance of going over the clitfs in reality,” said he. 
“The sun will rise in little more than an hour 
hence, I hope, and' then we shall be able to ascer* 
lain whereabouts we are.” 

In accordance with his advice, I sat myself down 
by his side, and remained silent for some time, 
while I watched the stars glittering overhead. At 
length I remarked, “ It is very odd, uncle, that 
Myers did not murder us, as he did the poor wretch 
we found under the cliff.” 

“ ^ fully expected he would ; but, after all, there 
are several reasons against such an act,” he an- 
swered. “ He put the spy to death, both for the 
sake of vengeance and that he might not betray 
any more of his secrets, or show us the smug- 
glers’ hides. Myers, however, knew that if he 
murdered a king’s officer, the government authori- 
ties would not rest till they had brought him to 
punishment, lliere is also a wild notion of justice 
among these outlaws ; and, as they know we are 
but doing our duty in pursuing them, they have 
not the satne bitter feeling toward us as they have 
towards any of their companions who turn traitors. 
Myers, perhaps, might have wished to secure a 
friend, in case of need. The fellows who had 
charge of us, however, could not resist the tempta- 
tion of playing us a trick, and trying to frighten 
us out of our wits. Some years ago, also, Myers 
was in my custody, and I treated him, as I should 


NEIL D'ARCY’s life AT SEA. 

any fellow-creature, with some kindness and con- 
sideration. I spoke to liini seriously, and endeav- 
oured to will him from his evil courses. 1 did not 
consider myself either as his judge or executioner. 
Perhaps, therefore, gratitude may have induced 
him to spare our lives.” 

‘‘ I have no doubt of it,” said I. I have to 
thank jmu, therefore, uncle, for my life.” 

“ I don’t suppose they would have hurt you, 
Neil, had you been alone,” he observed, laughing. 

“ Do you tliink that we shall be able to discover 
the cavern ?” I asked. 

‘‘ I fear not,” he replied ; -even if we did, it 
would be emptied of its contents. Depend on it, 
the smugglers were prepared to carry off every 
thing into the interior, and all the valuable goods 
are by this time a long way on their road to Lon- 
don. At all events, whatever were the motives of 
the smugglers, let us offer our thanks to God for 
tlie preservation of our lives, for they have been in 
great peril.” 

AYe knelt and prayed. 1 hope I did so sincerely. 
AYhat other remarks he made I do not remember, 
for I soon after this felt very drowsy, and quickly 
fell asleej). I dreamed all the time that I was 
tumbling head over heels down precipices, but 
never reached the ground. So I shall end this 
chapter at tlie bottom of a chalk pit. 


90 


SALT watek; OE, 


CHAPTER VII. 

WB GET or T OF THE PIT — SEARCH FOR MYERS — HAI^KS’s At- 

VIOE — I.OSE OUR SHIP I?T A FOG MINUTE GUNS HEARD — FAH 

IN WITH A SINKING SHIP — RESCUE PASSENGERS. 

I WAS awoke by my micle, and, looking up, I saw 
tJiat the stars had grown dim, and that the rosy 
dawn was rapidly spreading over tlie sky. When 
there was sufficient light to enable us to see dis- 
tinctly, we discovered that we were in an unusually 
large, and deep chalk pit. We had, however, but 
little difficulty in climbing out of it, and in reach- 
ing the top of the down in which it was situated. 
What was our surprise, on looking seaward, to dis- 
cover the cutter riding at anclior below us, and 
the boats just going oil’ to her ! W e therefore went 
to the most conspicuous height, and waved our 
caps and handkerchiefs, in the hope that some 
one might by chance be on the look-out with a 
telescope, and perceive us. We waited for some 
time, and were just giving up the case in despair, 
when one of the boats put off from the cutter, and 
pulled directly for the beach, above which w^e were 
standing ; so we hurried down by a rough zigzag 
path cut in the clitf, and were ready on die shore 
to receive her when she pulled in.' Who should 
we see in the boat but Stretcher, whom we fancied 
all the time held in durance vile by the smugglers. 
The honest fellow’s satisfaction at seeing us was 
even greater than our surprise ; for he had fully 
believed that we had been murdered, and had re 
ported our death on board. The boat’s crew gave 
three cheers as they ran up on the beach ; and 
in their delight they almost lifted my uncle and 


NEIL D^ARCY^S LIFE AT SEA. 91 

me into the boat. We were not long in getting 
on board again, when the cheers were repeated by 
all hands ; and I must do honest old Hanks the jus- 
tice to say, that, though he had doubtless begun to 
indulge in dreams of getting his promotion and the 
death vacancyfiiis pleasure was as genuine as that 
of the rest. «'* He had, we found, been already ar- 
ranging a plan to search for us, and to discover 
and capture the smugglers. The latter part of i< 
our commauder determined forthwith to execute 
Before we went to breakfast. Stretcher was sent tm 
to make his report, — a hurried mode of proceeding, 
of which I did not approve, for I was very sharp 
set ; but midshipmen’s appetites are seldom much 
thought of on such occasions. Jack soon made his 
appearance, with his hat in one hand, while he 
smoothed down his hair most pertinaciously with 
the other. 

“ Well, Stretcher, my man ; I wish to know how # 
you managed to escape so well out of the fangs of 
those rascals,” said my uncle. 

Why, your honour,” he answered, “ I scarcely 
know how it all happened myself, for after the 
blackguards dragged otf you and Mr. D’Arcy, I 
was in such a taking, thinking that they were go- 
ing to heave you over the clitf, that I didn’t seem 
to know where I was or what I was doing. At 
last they made the handkerchief fast round my 
eyes again, so that I couldn’t see a wink, and they 
began to haul me along, till I found that I was out 
of the cav£ and in the open air. On I went, up 
and down hill, some way inland it seemed, and 
then back again through a chine down to the sea- 
shore. After a bit they led me up hill, and, mak- 
ing me sit down on a rock, they told me that if 1 
stirred an inch before daylight, I should meet with 
the same fate my master had done. 


SALT ’\rATER; OK, 





“‘Huwam Ito tell when daylight comes, you liib 
hers, if you leave me with my eyes blinded said 1. 

“ No one answered, but 1 fancied 1 heard some 
one laugh close to me. They then lashed my arms 
behind me, so that I could not cast off the bandage 
from my eyes. 

“ ‘ So you are not going to ^ 
parts,’ said I, for I thought, as 
killing my officer, they would 
sending me over the cliffs also. 

‘“We’ve changed our minds,’ said they, ‘and 
can’t be troubled with you ; so ask no questions.’ 

“ 1 didn’t like the answer at all, for I made sure 
they was going to do away with me someho-w ; 
hut, as I couldn’t help myself, I was not going to 
show them what a funk I was in, so I pretended to 
whistle, quite happy like. I had been whistling 
away some time, when 1 thought I heard their 
rfcotsteps moving off*; and so it proved; for when 
1 next sung out to them, no one answered. 1 called 
them all manner of names, and blackguarded them 
like fun, but it didn’t make them angry, because, 
you see, there was no one there to hear me. At 
last, when I’d gj’own hoarse with hallooing after 
them, I thought I might as well go to sleep a bit, 
seeing as how I couldn’t manage to move, or to 
cast off* the lashings round my arms. How long I 
slept I don’t know ; but I was woke up by hear- 
ing some one hail me, and I soon knew that they 
were soine of the cutter’s people. When they got 
u]> to me, and cast off the handkerchief from my 
eyes, then I found I had been sitting not ten feet 
above the beach, and directly opposite where the 
cutter is brought up. That, your honour, is all I 
know about it, but whg the people are who played 
us the trick, or whereabouts the cave is, is more 
than 1 can say.” 


NJMl d’aRCI's LiFR AT SEA. 

^ “ Do not you think that we niip’ht manage to 
discover the cave, though asked the commander. 

“No, sir, certainly not,” answered Stretcher, 
positively. “ It may be close to ns, or it may be 
nve miles off. To my mind, it’s some very clever 
hide, and those who took us there knew very well 
we should never tind it again.” 

“We must see about that,” observed my uncle. 
“ By-the-by, Stretcher, I gave you some-things to 
take charge of, where are they ?” 

Here, sir ; they never overhauled my pockets, 
which shows that they have some manners, at all 
events,” said J ack, producing a pistol, a handker- 
2 hief, and a card. My uncle took the card, and 
3n it were written the words, “ This is the way we 
punish in !brmers and traitors.” 

“ Perhaps, sir, you don’t know who the man was 
who took the lead of the rest in the cave,” said 
Stretcher. 

“ Who was he asked the commander. 

“No other than Bill Myers himself,” answered 
Jack : “ I knew him directly, and several of those 
with him ; but I thought it better to keep a silent 
tongue in my head, so they didn’t suspect me. To 
my mind, Myers murdered the man as a warning to 
others not to attempt to play alike trick upon him. 
From what I happened to hear, I suspect the lug- 
ger has run her cargo, and is by this time on 
again, for I am certain some of the people we saw 
belonged to her, and they wouldn’t be likely to 
stay in this place after the work which has been 
done.” 

Nothing more of importance being elicited from 
Jack, he was dismissed, and my uncle arranged 
w'th Hanks, that all the boats should visit the shore, 
and that a strict search should be made to discover 
the cave, while we should communicate with the 


SALT water; or, 


autliorities, and state what had occurred. Tlie 
mist of the morning having cleared c*ff, a look-ont 
was kept at tlie mast-head for the lugger, should 
she be in sight ; hut not a sign of her appeared ; 
and as soon as breakfast was over, a large party 
of officers and seamen went on shore to hunt for 
the cave. My uncle. Stretcher, and I, meantime, 
went offi to the nearest magistrate to make our 
depositions. Mr. Gibson, the magistrate, received 
us very politely, and expressed his anxiety to sift 
the affair to the bottom, and to bring the offend- 
ers to justice' He took charge of the things We 
had found ; and while he entertained us at lunch- 
eon, he sent about to make inquiries on the sub- 
ject. The man, whose corpse we believed we had 
seen, was found to be missing, and we learned that, 
he was well known to be connected with the smug- 
glers ; but of the cave, and the cargo which we 
suspected to have been run, no one could, or rather 
would, afford any information. When, however, 
it was known that murder had been committed, 
several persons, who had no objection to assist in 
6im])le smuggling, but had a prejudice against 
murdering people, came voluntarily forward to 
state all they knew and suspected about the mat- 
ter. By several, Myers had been seen on shore 
during the previous day ; and, what is extraordi- 
nary, one of the witnesses, an alehouse-keeper, 
swore that he had seen him use the very handker- 
chief we had found, to sweep the crumbs oft* a table 
at which he had been eating bread and cheese, in 
order to have it clean for writing. He had also 
given him a letter to post, which he had forgotteu 
to do. The handwriting was exactly like that on 
the card. Another witness said, that he knew 
Myers by sight pert’ectly — that later in the day, as 
he was taking a cut across some fields near the 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


96 


cliffs, he had seen him seated under a tree, and 
that he was either loading or cleaning a pistol of 
the size and shape of the one now produced. In 
deed, there was ample circumstantial evidence to 
enable Mr. Gibson to issue a warrant for the ap 
prehension of Mjers on a charge of murder, when- 
ever and wherever he could be found. A reward 
was afterwards offered to whoever should capture 
him. It is very extraordinary that the cave could 
not be discovered, nor could we gain any informa- 
tion about the goods which had been seen. Of 
Myers himself no tidings could be obtained. Tliere 
was no doubt that he had committed the murder, 
and he must have been aware that many of his old 
friends might be tempted by the prospect of the 
reward to deliver him up, should he venture a^ain 
among them. The general opinion was, theretore, 
that we should hear nothing more of him. We, 
however, continued cruising in search of his lug- 
ger ; but, though we chased at different times sev- 
eral craft, which we thought might be his, we nevei 
got them wdthin range of our guns. We, however, 
captured several other smuggling vessels, and made 
prize of a considerable number of tubs. The lat- 
ter we picked up, either floating out at sea, or we 
got them by groping after they had been sunk. 
Smuggling-vessels carry a considerable portion of 
their cargo lashed along outside, just above the 
water. When hard pressed these are cut away, 
and the rest are thrown overboard, so that, wh6n 
overhauled, nothing contraband ma^ be found on 
board. When within a short distance of land, so 
that marks on the shore can be seen, weights are 
attached to the tubs, which are all fastened to- 
gether ; and the marks being observed, so that the 
spot should be known again, they are sunk. Some- 
rimes we saw them being ho\ o overboard and 


SALT WATEH; OR, 


9(5 

sunk, and then, of coni*se, we did our best to get 
them again. We at length took a longer cruise 
than usual, and were for some time knocking about 
in the longitude of Plymouth, and that turbulent 
portion of the aqueous world — the chops of the 
channel. There was a light wind and a smooth 
sea, and we were dodging along under easy sail, 
being in no hurry to get anywhere. I was walk- 
ing the deck with Hanks, talking on matters 
doubtless very erudite and abstruse ; but I now 
forget what they were. Scriven was casting up 
his accounts — literally, not metaphorically, be it 
understood ; Growl was endeavouring to forget his 
cares, with ey(.‘R fast closed, on two chairs in the 
gun-room, and our commander was below, reading. 

“ D’Arcy, I have taken a fancy to you, and I 
want to give you some good advice,” remarked my 
companion, after some time. ‘‘Just remember 
what I say, and it will be useful to you in elbow- 
ing your way, as you must, through this crowded 
world. First, then, keep that potato-trap of yours 
shut, except when you want to catch potatoes in it, 
and open your eyes and ears on all occasions. Tliere 
is little harm in knowing a thing, but there is’a 
very great deal in repeating it ; and much harm 
often in letting others be aware that you do know 
it. Then, my boy, always remember to look before 
you leap, and not to let go one rope before you have 
a tirm gripe of another. You pretty boys from 
green Erin’s Isle are too apt to do things in a hurry 
— to knock a fellow down, and then to ask his par- 
don, on finding that he wasn’t the man you intended 
to floor ; like the Irish soldier officer who declared 
that anchovies grew on the walls of Gibraltar, and 
when he had shot his friend for doubting his state- 
ment, recollected that it was capers he meant.” 

I laughed at Hanks’s old story, though it was a 


NEIL L’aRCY’S life AT SEA. 


97 


Lit against my countrymen ; for I have always 
found it far better to laugh off any thing said 
against one’s self than to put on the dignities and to 
look grand. Laughter and good humour are like 
polished shields, which make the shafts of satire 
glance off on either side ; but sulkiness and dignity 
are sure to bring tiifem thick around one. 

Our conversation was interrupted by the cry of 

A. sail on the weather bow 1” The wind was 
about south-east, and the cutter’s head was up 
channel. I went to report her to the commander, 
who immediately came on deck, and looking at her 
attentively through his glass, oi dered a boat to be 
lowered. He then returned below, and brought 
up a package. 

‘‘ Mr. D’Arcy,” said he — and I felt very grand 
to be so called — “ take this parcel on board yonder 
ship. I think I know her. K she is bound to 

, leave it with the master, to be delivered 

immediately on his arrival ; if not, bring it back.” 
I forget now the name of the place he mentioned. 

“ Aye, aye, sir,” I answered ; and, jumping into 
the boat, shoved off. Jack Stretcher, who, in con- 
sequence of his behaviour with the smugglers, had 
gained the estimation of all on board, was with me 
in the boat. Away we pulled towards the ship 
with rapid strokes, for we knew that the taster we 
pulled the less distance we should have to go. W e 
were about half-way between the cutter and the 
ship, when a bank of mist came rolling slowly 
along from the southern horizon, the opposite ex- 
tremities seeming to close in, till a circle was 
formed around us, still, however, having the cutter 
and the ship within its confines. On we rowed, 
the circle growing smaller and smaller, till, by the 
time we reached the ship, our own vessel was com- 
pletely shrouded from view. As I knew exact] ^ 
9 


98 


SALT water; or, 


where she was, that did not trouble me. The ship 
proved to be the one I was sent to board — ^the 
Ajax^ I think, was lier name. 

I delivered my dispatches. The master asked 
me down into the cabin to take a glass of wine, 
which it would have been against the principles 
of a midshipman to refuse. ‘ I took two or three, 
and ate some cold chicken and ham into the bar- 
gain. There were, I remember, a number of pas- 
sengers, who were very civil, and some gave me 
letter’s to take on shore; indeed, it is just possible 
that one of the reasons why I w’as so hospitably en- 
tertained was, that time might be obtained to hnish 
and close the said letters. At last, the package of 
farewells, last words, and before-forgotten direc- 
tions, bemg ready, I tumbled with it into the boat, 
and shoved off to return to the cutter. 

I calculated that she bore about north-north- 
west from the ship ; and not having a compass, the 
last thing I did was to take a careful glance at the 
one on board. I then pulled away, thinking that 
I should not lose sight of the merchantman before 
we got hold of our own craft. Li about ten min- 
utes I found that I was not a little mistaken. I 
had told Stretcher, who was pulling stroke-oar, to 
keep his eye on the ship, while I, meantime, was 
looking out for the cutter. Every moment I ex- 
pected to see her ; but, as we advanced, the fog 
appeared to rise up with redoubled thickness 
around us ; and my difficulty was still further in- 
creased when Jack Stretchei* exclaimed — 

“ I can’t see the ship nowhere, sir ! She was 
there not a moment ago, and just as I passed my 
hand o’^^er my brow, she was gone.” 

“ Well, we must pull on,” I exclaimed. “ K we 
keep the breeze on the starboard quarter we can- 
not be far wrong.” 


NEIL D’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


95 


However, not many minutes afterwards, tlie 
wind, true to its proverbial character of fickleness, 
died away, and we were ]eft witliout any guide by 
which to steer our course across the trackless deep. 
Still we milled on, I fancied, in the direction of the 
coast. We should have been wise had we laid on 
our oars and gone to sleep. As I could not see 
ahead, I steered by the wake astern, and was un- 
der the impression that I was keeping a wonder- 
fully straight line. How long we had gone on I 
can scarcely tell, when we heard the sound of a 
gun booming along the water; but, instead of 
coming from the direction in which we were steer- 
ing, it seemed to be astern of us. Still we thought 
it must be the cutter firing. The men even de- 
clared that they knew the sound of the gun. The 
probability was, certainly, that it was her gun, as 
she would be sure to fire to show her whereabouts 
to us ; and it was not likely that any other vessel 
near us would be firing for a similar purpose. Al- 
though I was very confident, from the straight 
wake I fancied I had kept, that Jack was mistaken, 
and that the sound of the gun had come from some 
other vessel, yet I yielded to his opinion, and pulled 
in the direction whence we thought it proceeded. 
We had not made good a quarter of a mile when 
we again heard the sound ; but still, to our surprise 
and vexation, it was indubitably right astern. 

“That gun’s from the cutter, sir,” said Jack; 
“ but I can’t make it out how it comes from away 
there.” 

Ho more could I ; but determined this time, at 
all events, not to miss our vessel, we pulled away 
directly towards the spot whence we were certain 
the sound proceeded. 

“ Give way, my lads, we shall soon be up with 
her,” 1 shouted ; and the crew sent the boat flying 


1002SL 


BALT water; or, 


through the smooth water. I kept looking out on 
either bow for the cutter, expecting every instant 
to see her looming through the fog, when, for the 
third time, a gun was heard ; but, in spite of all 
our hopes and expectations, and almost against our 
belief, it also sounded right astern, and further 
away than any of the others. 1 was ready to cry 
with vexation. It seemed like the work of magic, 
and as if a set of mischievous imps or spirits, like 
those on Prospero’s island, were employed in try- 
ing our tempers and patience. There seemed no 
use in going on thus, to be constantly baulked, so 
I ordered the men to lay on their oars, resolved to 
wait either till the mist cleared off, or till we could 
devise some better means of finding our way to the 
shore than we now possessed. Thus for an hour 
or more we floated listlessly on the water. 


CHAPTER YIII. 

fiXL IN WITH A WRECK — DREADFUL SCENE ON BOARD — MK. 

MARLOW AND HIS DAUGHTER — ALICE MARLOW’s ACCOUNT OF 

THE VOYAGE — ERRING THE SHIP INTO HARBOUR. 

‘‘ Hillo ! where does that come from I ex- 
claimed, as the low deep boom of a gun came 
rolling over the calm water. 

Another, and another report followed ; and then, 
as if affected by the concussion, the mist on a sud- 
den lifted a few feet from the surface, and revealed, 
about three miles off, the hull of a large ship, on 
which the rays of the now setting sun glittered 
brightly for an instant, ere she sank beneath the 
wave. It was sufficient to show us our position, 
and we might easily have found our way towards 


NEIL D'ARCy's LIFE AT SEA. 101 

the shore ; hut, as I was about putting the boat’s 
head in that direction, Jack observed — 

Theie’s something wrong with that ship yon- 
der, sir, or she wouldn’t be tiring in the way she 
does.” 

I listened attentively. There could be no doubt 
— those were minute-^uns, the well-known signal 
of distress at sea. We could do but little good, 
probably; but what ^;jod we could do l ueter- 
inined to attempt. My men needed no encourage- 
ment. The fact that fellow-creatures wanted help 
was sufficient to nerve their arms. Had an enemy 
been in sight, and had there been heads to be 
cracked, it would have been much the same. 
Hound spun the boat, and away they pulled as 
hard as they could lay their backs to the oars. 
The breeze, wdiich had cleared offi the mist, had 
likewise got up the sea a little, and the spray flew 
over our bows as we dashed through the. dancing 
waves. Away we went — the big sea-serpent could 
not have beaien us. Every minute the low, dull 
sound of the gun reached our ears, growing louder 
and louder as we drew nearer the ship. Her dis- 
tress was evidently great. From the somewhat 
irregular way the gun was flred, and from its tone, 
Jack pronounced tiie shqj to be a merchantman, 
as he remarked that minute-guns from a man-of- 
war would have been far louder, and more regular. 
The mist, fortunately, did not again settle down 
thickly over the ship, so that, although twilight 
was coming on, we could still distinguish her 
whereabouts. As we drew near, we saw that she 
was of considerable size, and that all her masts had 
gone by the board. W e were evidently not per- 
ceived, even though we had got close up to her, 
tor she continued tiring as before. 

“ How, my lads, weTl let the poor fellows know 


102 


SALT water; or, 


that we are at hand to help them,” I exclaimed : 
and on this my men joined me in raising a right 
hearty cheer, which must have given the people 
on board no nnpleasing notice of our approach. 
There was a pause, at if they were recovering from 
their surprise, and tlien it was answered hy a shout 
BO feeble, that it sounded more like the sighing of 
the wind among the crumbling walls of some old 
building than a cheer of welcome. It was now 
top dark to distinguish any one, but I fancied that 
I saw the heads of several people over the talfrail, 
as if eagerly watching us. W e were soon along- 
side, when some one attempted to heave us a rope, 
but it fell short of the boat. We, however, hooked 
on to the main chains, and, followed by Jack, I 
was not long in scrambling on board. A seaman 
stood there, holding a ship’s lantern, which shed 
a feeble light around, where all was wreck and 
confusion ; and it besides exhibited more strongly 
his own countenance, which looked haggard and 
emaciated in the extreme. The greater part of 
the bulwarks, the spare spars, the caboose, and the 
boats had been carried away ; indeed, the sea must 
have made a clean sweep over her ; and it seemed 
not a little surprising, from the appearance of the 
deck, that any human beings should have remained, 
and that the ship herself should have escaped foun- 
dering. Besides the man who held the lantern, 
three equally wretched-looking beings came to meet 
us. I observed that some others were lying on 
the deck, round one of the chain-pumps, as if they 
had sunk down with fatigue, while two more were 
Btretched ont alongside the only remaining gun, 
the report of which we had heard. I thought to 
myself, can those poor fellows be dead? — but i 
dared nc't ask the question. 


NEIL d’aRGY’S life AT SEA. lOS 

“You seem in a bad plight,” I observed, as 1 
looked round. 

“ Bad enough,” answered one of the seamen ; 
“ and if you don’t bear a hand, we shall have the 
ship sinking under us.” 

“ W e’ll do our best for you ; but how can our boat 
carry all your ship’s company?” I asked, for 1 
thought I saw other people moving aft, and fancied 
that some must be below. 

“ Oh, she’ll carry all of us that’s alive,” returned 
the same rough-spoken seaman. “ But, sir,” he 
continued, “ we have two aboard here whom we 
must get out of harm’s way before we look after 
ourselves.” 

“ Where are they ?” I asked. 

“ Bight aft, sir,’’ he answered, leading the way 
along the deck. 

As I followed him I passed two bodies stretched 
out at full length. 

“They’ll never break ' biscuit again,” observed 
one of the men. “ We were near thirty souls in all, 
and this night there only remain six of us alive.” 

There was no time just then to ask questions 
The companion-hatch had not been washed away, 
and as the seaman held up the lantern, its’ light fell 
on the figure of a man. kneeling on the deck, bend- 
ing over the fair face of a young girl, who reclined 
on a seat by the side of it. 

“ Bouse up a bit, sir ; there’s help come when we 
didn’t expect it,” said the seaman. 

The gentleman, for such I saw that he was, had 
not his voice proved it, rose from his knees. “ Hea- 
ven be praised, my child may yet be saved !” he 
exclaimed, clasping his daughter in his arms, and 
scarcely appearing to notice my presence. “ Alice, 
dearest, bear up but a little longer, we may once 
mere hope to reach the shore.” 


104 


SALT water; or, 


The young girl endeavoured to raise herself; and 
feebly returned his embrace. 

Then turning to me, he said, You have arrived 
most opportunely. We had well nigh abandoned 
all hope of escaping death. What do you propose 
we should do 

As the people on board seem to say that the 
ship may go down any moment with slight warn- 
ing ” I replied, “ I think, sir, the sooner you and 
the young lady get into the boat the better.” 

“We will follow you when it becomes abso- 
lutely necessary. Meantime we must see what can 
be done on board.” 

I then told him that I belonged to a cutter, 
which could not be far off, and that I hoped by 
daylight we should see her, and that she would 
come to our assistance. 

The gentleman, on this, took his daughter in his 
arms and carried her to the gangway. 

“ How are the poor 'men who were so ill ?” I 
heard her ask. 

“ They are free from all pain,” was the evasive 
answer ; but it seemed to satisfy her. 

We soon got them safely-placed in the boat, in 
which I left two boat-keepers, with orders to be 
ready to shove off at a moment’s notice. The rest 
of the boat’s crew came on board to lend a hand to 
what might be required. 

I then set to work to see what was best to. be 
done. There was no time to ask questions as to 
how the ship had got into her present condition. 
My first care was to attend to the wants of the sick. 
Tlie seamen who had received us and my own 
people went round widi me : unhappily, we found 
that most of the otlier poor fellows were beyond 
human aid. Three only were still alive, verging 
;n the poi'tals of death. We forhimitely had -a 


NEIL l’AKCY’s life AT SEA. 


105 


flask of spirits, a keg of water, and some biscuits 
in the boat ; of these I served out sparingly among 
the crew. The food had the effect of speedily re- 
viving them. I next took a lantern, and, accom- 
panied by Jack, went below to discover, if I could, 
how much water the ship had in her. I was not 
quite comfortable during the time, for I thought 
she might take it into her head to go down be- 
fore we could regain the deck. The water we 
found was over the cabin ffoors; but, as far as 
we could judge, it was not gaining on her. Half 
of it might have got in while the sea broke over 
the ship. Tlie contents of the cabin, bedding, and 
tables, and chairs, and crockery, and books, and 
clothing, were washing about together. Returning 
on deck, we went forward. The forepeak was 
much in the same condition. 

“She’ll not sink yet awhile, sir,” said Jack. 
“ Hark, now ! don’t you hear a bubbling sound 
right forward, there? How, to my mind, if we 
were to get a sail thrummed and brought across 
her bows, we might carry her into harbour yet.” 

“ If you think so, we’ll try it, by all means,” I 
answered, jpeling no little pride at the prospect of 
saving tlje ship. 

Ho tinie'was to be lost in setting about the work, 
if it was to be done. I had only three men ; and 
the four we found able to move about on board 
were still too weak to be of much use. Officers 
there were none. I shall have to tell a sad tale on 
that subject, by-and-by. We had no little diffi* 
culty in getting at the sail-room; but, after much 
rummaging about, we discovered a spare topsail, 
witli winch we set to work as we proposed. What 
witli searching for the ropes and getting the sail 
ready, it took us an hour before it was brought 
under the ship’s bows. Meantime the water gained 


106 


SALT water; OB, 


very slowly on us. It was nervous work, for we 
could not tell at what moment the last bucket- 
ful might come in which would send her to the 
bottom. 

“That will do, sir, I think,” said Jack Stretcher, 
who, I must own, was the prime mover : “ the leak 
seems to suck in the sail, and we may now try to 
clear her of the water.” 

With a will we manned the chain-pumps, and 
after an hour’s hard work it became evident that 
we had materially lessened its dej3th. In the 
mean time the little girl and her father, with the 
weakest of those we found on board, had remained 
in the boat. 

“You may come on board again, sir; I don’t 
think the ship is going to sink this time,” I sung 
out, as I looked down on them. 

At first the gentleman would not venture to quit 
the boat, for he could not believe that the ship was 
not on the J)oint of sinking. After some persua- 
sion, however, I got him and his daughter on deck, 
and we wrapped her up comfortably, and placed 
her on the seat by the companion-hatch, for the 
cabin was too damp for her to occupy. The sick 
men we placed on the poop, with a sail stretched 
over them, to shelter them somewhat from the 
night air. The dead were carried forward. We 
had no time however to spar^ from the pumps; 
but, with the aid of the fresh' hands, we again set 
to for a spell, the gentleman helping, as far as his 
strength would allow him. As may be supposed, 
I was curious to know who he was ; and while we 
were pumping away I bethought me I would ask 
him his name. 

“ You may call me Marlow,” he answered ; “ I 
ou^t to have mentioned that before.” 

The reply made me fancy that there was some 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


107 


mystery or other, and my imagination conjured up 
all sorts of romantic stories. “And that young 
lady,” thought I, “ is Miss Alice Marlow.” “ Alice 
Marlow — Alice Marlow : what a very pretty name,” 
I kept repeating to myself while my arms were 
aching with the exertion of pumping. Fortunately, 
t remained very calm, or I suspect we should not 
have gained on the leak. Mr. Marlow was anxious 
to get on shore for the sake of his daughter, and 
would willingly have abandoned the ship ; but at 
the same time he was glad to save some valuable 
property he had on board. All hands worked with 
a will, spelling each other, till we were almost 
knocked up. I thought the night the longest I had 
ever spent. We had no time for conversation, so I 
was still ignorant of how the ship had been brought 
into her present condition. At last the cold gray 
light of the coming day appeared. I looked out in 
the hope of discovering the blue line of the land 
on the northern board; but the dull, leaden sea 
surrounded us on every side — ^fortunately, unruffled 
as a looking-glass. l!^either the cutter nor any 
other sail was in sight. We had given our own 
provisions to the half-famished crew, and were be- 
coming very sharp-set ourselves. Some nutritious 
food had, I found — much to the credit of those on 
board — been reserved for the exclusive use of the 
little girl, and this had been the means of preserv- 
ing her life, notwithstanding all the hardships she 
had undergone. Mr. Marlow, overcome with fa- 
tigue, had wrapped himself in a cloak, and lay 
li^eep at his daughter’s feet. Two of the ship’s 
crew had fairly given in, and dropped off- also ; 
but my own fellows, urged on by Jack, worked 
away like Trojans at the pump. 

“ Do ye see, lads, if we get this here craft into 
harbour, we shall make a better job of it than of 


i08 


SALT water; or, 


any prize we are ever likely to pick up in the 
whole course of our lives ; but if she sinks, why, 
do ye see, we shall get nothing,” he remarked, 
whenever he saw them inclined to flag in their ex- 
ertions ; and each time he spoke, the water seemed 
to flow faster than before out of the scuppers. 

Our prospect was not a very pleasant one. We 
had a boat, certainly ; but with any sea running 
she would scarcely carry the remnant of the crew 
and passengers, and while the ship floated, I would 
on no account desert her. 

Tlie beams of the sun, as he rose out of the ocean, 
fell on the little girl’s face. I had fancied her ra- 
ther pretty at night, but I now thought her very 
lovely. While my arms were resting I stood 
watching her, when the dazzling light of the sun 
aroused her from her sleep, and, opening a very 
bright pair of bine eyes, she flxed them on me with 
a look of extreme surprise. It may be laid down 
as a general rule that a midshipman, especially an 
Irish one, does not take a long time to fall in love, 
nor, it must be confessed, to fall out again — which 
latter, taking all things into consideration, will be 
considered a very fortunate circumstance. I, ac- 
cordingly, instantly conceived a very ardent aflec- 
tion for Miss Alice Marlow, and felt ready to go 
right round the world, and to perform all sorts of 
prodigies for her sake. She looked at me, and 
then around her, as if trying to collect her scattered 
senses. 

‘‘Where are we — where are we going?” she 
asked, in a very sweet and musical voice. 

“We are in the chops of the Clfannel ; and we 
are going nowhere at present, but we hope soon to 
be,” I answered. “We must try to rig a sort of a 
jury mast, and if we get a little breeze from the 
southward, we may hope to fetch Plymouth.” 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 109 

Tlie idea of getting up a jury-mast had only just 
Dccurred to me. 

Her voice aroused Mr. Marlow. It was pleasant 
to see the way in which the father and daughter 
greeted each other. I left them together, offering 
up their thanks to Heaven for having preserved 
them to see another day, while I went forward to 
propound my idea to Jack. He was about to pro- 
pose the same to me, the only want being the spars 
with which to make the mast. A few remained, 
certainly, on deck, but they were short and broken. 
On putting them, however, together, we found that 
we might splice them so as to form a mast and a 
yard of sufficient length to answer our purpose. 
All hands set-to with a will, in the hopes that a 
breeze might spring up from the southward or 
westward, and blow us on to the English coast. 
The ebb, I found, had drifted us down channel, 
and the flood, now again making strong, sent us 
the way we wdshed to go. As the sun also rose, 
and the mist which had so long hung over the sea 
cleared off somewhat, we at length made out the 
land to the northward, which we had no doubt was 
the coast of Cornwall. 

Things now began to wear a much more cheer- 
ing aspect. We had to knock off* mast-btiilding, 
however, every now and then, to take a spell at 
the" pumps. Mr. Marlow assisted us at either work 
to the best of his power ; and even little Miss Alice 
seemed very anxious to lend a hand ; and, though 
I own she could have been but of slight use, her 
presence encouraged us to perseverance. It did 
me at all evenis. I have all my life felt doubly 
energetic in. the presence of a lady, and fancy, at 
all events, that there is not a deed which I would 
not dare for the sake of winning the smile of an 
amiable girl. 


tio 


SALT WATER - OR, 


At last we got something like a mast built, and 
lashed to the stump of the foremast. We stayed 
it up, got a yard across it, and bent a topsail to it, 
which we fortunately found below. This was but 
very little sail ; but it was all we could hope to be 
able to set, and without a wind even that was of no 
use to us. 

The pumps, in the mean time, kept us fully 
occupied ; clang — clang — clang they went, till 1 
thought I never should get the sound out of my 
ears. Jack, every now and then, turned his eye 
over the smooth, glassy sea to the northward, as if 
he observed some sign which I did not. Before 
long he gladdened our ears by exclaiming, — ‘‘ Here 
it comes! We’ll stand by, sir, if you please, to 
hoist the sail.” I went aft to the helm. A nice 
fresh, laughing breeze came rippling and curling 
up briskly the hitherto sullen waters. It struck us 
abeam on the larboard side. The sail was hoisted, 
the ship answered her helm, and I steered her in 
the direction in which I believed that Plymouth 
was to be found. . As the binnacle had been swept 
off the deck, and the only compass I could find in 
the cabin had been so damaged by water as to be of 
no use, I had only the distant blue land to steer by. 

Our sail, fortunately, required but little attention, 
30 that my whole ship’s company were at liberty 
to work at the pumps, which was very necessary, 
as, whenever they relaxed in their efforts, the water 
again rapidly gained on us. 

Miss Alice, being of no assistance to them, came 
and stood by me to help me to steer the ship, which 
I assured her, was very kind of her. 

As all danger appeared past, and the sun shone 
forth bright and warm, her spirits revived. Her 
voice was very sweet and low; and I thought that 
1 had never heard any thing more musical. 


NEIL D’AROY’S life AT SEA. 


Ill 


“ Wliat is your name, little officer slie asked, 
putting her hands on the spokes of the wheel, and 
imitating my attitude as I stood on the other side 
of it. 

“ !N’eil D’Arcy, little lady,” I answered, not quite 
liking the epithet she bestow’ed on me. 

“ Oh, I so much wished to know it ; for Papa 
and I are so very, very grateful to you for coming 
to save our lives, and we can never thank you 
enough,” said she. 

Oh, I have done nothing at all to be thanked 
for ; I wish that I had,” i replied ; “ I would’nt 
mind any trouble or danger to serve you ; and I 
would go right round the world for your sake, that 
I would.” 

“It’s very kind of you to say so,” Said Miss 
Alice. “ And I know that I shall like you some 
day very much — indeed 1 do so now — for the ser- 
vice you have been to us ; but tell me, Mr. Neil 
D’Arcy, are you a captain of a ship ?” 

“No, I am a midshipman,” I replied, modestly. 

“ Is a midshipman higher than a captain ?” she 
inquired, innocently. 

“ Sometimes ; when he’s mast-headed,” I an- 
swered. Tliis seemed to satisfy her; and I, not 
wishing to be lowered in her estimation, was 
anxious to change the subject. I therefore said, 
“It seems very odd that, though I’ve been on 
board so many hours, and seem to be so well ac- 
quainted with you, I do not know where you have 
come from, or how you got into this terrible plight.” 

“ Oh, I will tell you all about it then,” she re 
plied. “You must know, that papa has been a 
great merchant in the Brazils, where we have 
Uved almost since I can remember. Dear mamma 
died there ; and, if it had not been for my sake, I 
believe papa would have died too. You cannot 


112 


SALT water; or, 


tell how fond he is of me, for I have no brothers 
or sisters, and there was no one else in that country 
for him to love. At last the doctor told him he 
must come to England, so. he took a passage in this 
ship, which is called the Poictiers. There were 
some other passengers, and I had an old black 
nurse to take care of me. At first we had fine 
weather, and things seemed to go pretty well ; 
but, sad to say, the captain was a very tipsy man, 
and we, I believe, lost our way, and the wind blew 
against us and kept us back a long time.’’ 

“ Oh, I see ! the master got out of his reckon- 
ing, and met with a succession of foul winds,” I 
remarked. 

“ I don’t know, but I know we were very un- 
comfortable, and had very little to . eat, and what 
we had wa6 very bad,” she continued. ‘‘ It was 
very horrid, was it not ? « A fever also, which one 
of the passengers had brought from Rio, spread 
among the people on board. Several of the other 
passengers and many of the crew died of it, and 
among others, my poor nurse Josefa. God was 
very kind, and saved dear papa and me. I do not 
think the captain caught it ; but he was always 
very tipsy, and now was worse than ever. One 
night he fell into the sea and was drowned.” 

‘‘ Drinking brought o\\^lirium tremens^ and in 
his madness he jumped overboard, probably,” 1 
remarked. “No wonder his ship was in so bad a 
condition ; but go on.” 

“ Both the mates died, and we w^ere left without 
any officers. Fortunately, the crew were very 
steady and behaved well; and at last tl^e fever 
went away, and those who were sick recovered- 
The carpenter was the only person on board who 
had any idea how we should steer, so the rest 
made him act as captain.” 


IfElL D^ARCy’s life AT SEA. 


113 


“ It was a mercy, under sucli circumstances, 
that you found your way into the Chops of the 
Channel.” ■ 

“ Where is that ?” asked Miss Alice, naively. 

‘‘Where we now are,” said I; and I should 
probably have gone on to explain the reason of 
the name, but that I was very anxious to hear more 
of her account. As far as I could make out, three 
very anxious weeks passed by while the ship re- 
mained in this condition, wdien, as they were 
getting near soundings, a gale sprang up and 
drove tier furiously before it. 

“ One evening,” continued the little girl, “ papa 
and I were in our cabins, when suddenly the ship 
rolled over dreadfully on her side, and — most hor- 
•rible ! — the water came rushing down into them. 
At the same time there was a frightful crash, and 
we heard sad shrieks and cries. Poor papa flew 
into my cabin, and seized me in his arms, for he 
thought the ship was sinking; so did I, and we 
wished to die together.” 

“ The ship had broached to, and had been 
thrown on her beam-ends, and the masts had gone 
by the board,” I remarked : “ it was fortunate they 
did so, or she would havp been sent to the bottom 
to a certainty. When the masts went the ship 
righted, and you saw there was a chance of 
escape.” 

“I was too frightened to think any thing just 
then,” said she : “ all I know is, that papa, carry- 
ing me in his arms, found his way in the darkness 
to the companion-ladder, and then up on deck. 
When we got there, I wished that we were in our 
cabin again. We were in the midst of high, 
black, foaming waves and bright flashes of li^t- 
ning ; and when I looked up, there were no masts 
and no sails, but the deck was covered with their 


114 


SALT water; or, 

broken remains. It was so very dreadful, I caL 
not talk more about it now. I did not or faint, 
but I felt my heart beat very quick as I cluiiff to 
papa, while he held tight to the companion-hatcnes, 
which, as you see, still remain firm.” 

‘‘ But where have you lived all the time you 
have been on the wreck ?” I asked. 

“ Oh, I remained where you first found me,” 
she answered. “ At night, they covered me up 
with cloaks and a sail, and in the day-time I was 
able to walk about, for the sea, fortunately, was 
tolerably smooth. The kind sailors also, though 
suffering much from hunger, I heard papa say, 
brought me all I required to eat, which was not 
much, you may suppose.” 

This was all about the shipwreck I heard from 
Miss Alice at the time. It appeared that when 
the masts had been carried away, the mizen-mast 
had hung on by some of the rigging, and by drag- 
ging astern had assisted in making the head of the 
ship pay off. This caused her to drive before the 
gale, and saved the decks from being swept by the 
seas, which would otherwise have cleared them of 
every human being. As soon as all the damage ' 
had been committed, the wind and sea began to 
go down, and by the morning there was only a 
moderate breeze. The carpenter, however, dis- 
covered that the ship had sprung a leak, and all 
hands were now summoned to work the pumps ; 
but weakened by disease and famine, and over- 
come with fatigue, were soon obliged to give up 
the almost hopeless task. Three days of horror 
passed away without any ship coming near them, 
while several of them died from sheer starvation. 
Fortunately, at last they discovered some gun- 
powder, which, being in tin cases, was not spoilt, 


NEIL D’AECY'S life AT SEA. 115 


and with it they managed to fire the guns which 
had attracted our attention. 

Miss Alice told me many more incidents which 
I now forget; Our conversation was interrupted 
by Jack Stretcher, who came aft. 

“ Sir,” said he, touching his hat, “ I’m afraid we 
shall have to take to the boat, for the people are 
almost all knocked up; and, do all we can, the 
ship won’t fioat much longer.” 

“ I’m sorry to hear tliat, for I should have liked 
to have got her safe into harbour,” I answered. 
‘‘ But I suppose there is no help for it.” 

“ We’ll take another spell at the pumps before 
we give in,” he replied. “ But I wanted to tell 
YOU, sir, that to my mind that poor gentleman will 
be killing himself if he works away as he does; 
and, as he is of no great use to us, it would be bet 
ter if he sat down and rested himself.” 

On hearing this^ Miss Marlow darted forward to 
her father, and, seizing him by the arm, tried to 
force him away from the pumps. He soon yielded 
to her entreaties, and, almost fainting with fatigue, 
came and sat down aft. 

“ How, my lads,” cried Jack to the men, who, 
one after the other, had thrown themselves down 
on the deck, “ we’ll see if we can’t keep the old 
craft afioat till we get her into harbour.” 

But no one responded to his summons. Just 
then my eye fell on the white sail of a vessel ap- 
^ ’’ ’ horizon right ahead of us. 



“It’s the cutter, sir, to a certainty,” he ex- 
claimed, after scrutinizing it attentively. “ Huzza I 
my lads, there’s help at hand, if you will but hold 
Dut an hour longer.” 

The men, encouraged by his words and example, 
resumed their labours, and again sent the water 


116 


SALT water; or, 


gushing through the scuppers. It was an anxious 
time ; tor after all, I felt that the sail in sight might 
not prove to be the cutter, or she might be crossing 
our course and not see us. Our last remnant ot 
food and water had been served out, with the ex- 
ception of a biscuit, which I had kept for the little 
girl and her father, so that all hands were very 
hungry as well as fatigued. I had tightened my 
belt round my waist, to serve me for my breakfast. 
I watched the vessel as she -rose higher and higher 
above the horizon, and, to my great joy, I at 
length saw that she was, at all events, a large cut- 
ter beating up towards us. I called Jack to look 
at her again. 

“She’s the Serpent, and no mistake,” he ex- 
claimed ; “ she’ll be down to us in another hour, 
if the wind holds. My doubt is, if the ship will 
swim as long,” he added in a whisper to me ; 
“ but we’ll do our best, sir.” 

“ Let me know in time if the water gains much 
on us, that we may get the young lady and the 
gentleman into the boat,” said I. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” he answered, as he went forward, 
and, with a loud cheer, resumed his labours. 

The minutes dragged slowly on j for, though i 
had no fear for our lives, I was anxious to get fresh 
hands to keep the ship afloat. 

“ Is that little vessel yours ?” asked Miss Mar- 
low, pointing to the cutter as she approached. 

“ Yes,” said I ; “ I hope before long to take you 
on board her.” 

“ That will be very nice ; for dear papa and 1 
want to leave this dreadful ship. You will carry 
us home to Old England, will you ?” she said. 

“ If the cutter makes us out, I hope to get you 
on shore this evening, or to-morrow,” I replied. 

But I am not quite certain thaf she sees us.’’ ' 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


117 


Slie had just then tacked, and was apparently 
standing away from us. I watched her eagerly. 
Again she tacked, and I was certain she saw us. 
I steered towards her, and now, the breeze fresii' 
emng, we rapidly neared each other. She stood 
on, and, passing under our stern, kept alongside 
of us. 

“Hillo, D’Arcy, my boy — how did you get 
there hailed my uncle, as he recognized me at 
the helm. 

^‘Fell ia with her, sir. Pray send some fresh 
hands, for we are sinking, and some prog, for we 
are starving,” I shouted, in return. 

The cutter flew by us, and hove-to a short dis- 
tance ahead. A boat was lowered, and as we 
eame up, she hooked on to our main-chains, and 
my uncle stepped on board. I was thus speedily 
shorn of the honour of command. As soon as J 
had introduced Mr. Marlow and his daughter to 
him, and given him a brief account of what had 
occurred, he invited them on board [he cutter, 
ordering me to take charge of them, and to send 
Hanks with another boat’s crew to assist in work- 
ing the ship. He had brought some provisions, 
which very soon restored my hungry people, and 
enabled them to pull me and my charges on board 
the cutter, while the fresh hands took their places 
at the pumps. Even when Miss Alice discovered 
my unexalted position, she did not seem to esteem 
me the less, for I had already, I rather fancy, es- 
tablished myself in her good graces. I did my 
best to make her and her father comfortable in my 
uncle’s cabin ; and Flitch, his steward, soon placed 
before them such a breakfast as they had not seen 
for many a long day, to which I, at all events, did 
not fail to do ample justice. The young lady ap- 
peared to think that naval oflicerB were very 


118 


SALT water; or, 


hungry mortals, as she saw numberless slices jf 
bacon and eggs disappear down my throat. 

“We have no ladyVmaid on board to attend on 
you, Miss Marlow,” said I, as I got up to leave the 
cabin ; “ but Flitch will put your berth to rights ; 
and, if you’ll follow my advice, you’ll turn in and 
take a good snooze, for you want it, I think.” 

The poor little girl was almost falling asleep at 
table. Mr. Marlow thanked me for my good ad- 
vice, which he said he and his daughter would 
follow. 

When I went on deck I found that the cutter 
had taken the ship in tow, and that we were run- 
ning up Channel. My uncle soon came on board, 
and, praising me for my behaviour, said he should 
try and carry our prize 'into Portsmouth. He was 
in, high spirits, for he expected to get a good round 
sum for salvage. The breeze held favourable, and 
in two days we were steering safely through the 
Heedles passage. 


CHAPTER IX. 

ALICE AT DAISY COTTAGE — A BOAt’s CREW CAPSIZED— RICK 
UP DICKY SHARPE — OUR FRIENDSHIP COMMENCED. 

I MAT as well say that my uncle got a fair round 
sum for the salvage of the good ship the Poictkrs 
and a very welcome addition to his year’s pay 
Our passengers went on shore at Portsmouth, and 
as soon as we arrived there, I thought I was to see 
no more of them, when, having accompanied them 
to the door of the George Hotel, I was about to 
bid them farewell. 

“ What ! we are not going to part yet,” said Mr. 
Marlow. “ Come in, young gentleman- —come in. ’ ' 


NEIL d’AKCY’S life AT SEA. 119 


There was the usual bustle consequent on the 
arrival of a party at an inn. It soon subsided. 
Rooms were selected, and we found ourselves seated 
in a parlour, which looked doubly comfortable af- 
ter the deck of the dismasted ship and the small 
cabin of the cutter. 

“ You will come and dine with us to-day, Mr. 
D’Ai’cy ; and I must beg you to convey an invita- 
tion to your uncle,” said Mr. Marlow. 

As midshipmen are not always their own mas- 
ters, I had to explain that I would, if I could; 
though I did not think my uncle would refuse me 
leave. I was not disappointed ; and at six o’clock 
I found myself seated at Mr. Marlow’s dinner-table, 
and opposite my commander. I thought tlie little 
lady. Miss Alice, still looked very much fatigued. 

“ She is scarcely yet fit to peiibrm the journey 
to London,” observed her father : “ still I am anx- 
ious to be there, and must also visit Liverpool in 
the course of a few days.” 

“ If you will allow her to remain with Mrs. 
O’Flaherty, I can answer for my wife being most 

ough I was afraid of show- 



once acceded to the pro- 


I will, then, bring Mrs. O’Flaherty over to 
fetch her,” added my uncle. “ You will, I sus- 
pect, agree very well. Miss Alice.” 

‘‘ Indeed, my dear sir, you are laying me under 
a tenfold obligation,” said Mr. Marlow. “ All our 
connections are, I believe, in the ISTorth, and in 
di’eary London there is no one with whom I could 
leave the dear child.” 

I don’t remember the rest of our conversation. 
I know that I discussed a very good dinner; and 
that same evening we got under weigh and ran 


120 


SALT WATER ; OR, 


over to Rycle, and inj uncle went up to Daisy Cot 
tage. The next morning my aunt accompanieo 
him on board, and we returned to Portsmouth. 
She received little Alice, as I knew she would, 
most kindly ; and before many hours liad passed 
they became great friends ; and, to make a long 
story short. Miss Marlow became an inmate, for 
several weeks, of Daisy Cottage. 

VV' e were lying one day soon after this in Ports- 
mouth Harbour, off Haslar Creek, ready to start 
for the westward. It was Sunday. My uncle had 
gone over to Hyde, and I was in hopes of getting 
across in the afternoon to visit my aunt and her 
guest. I had turned out in full tig; and, while all 
the people were below dressing for muster, I walked 
the deck as officer of the watch, with my spyglass 
under my arm, looking out for the signal from the 
tlag-ship to make it eight bells. I felt very impor- 
lant, tut I have reasons to doubt whether I looked 
proportionably consequential. All the ships in the 
liarbour and at Spithead ran up their bunting at 
the same moment ; and Iliad just belayed our sig- 
nal halyards when I saw a boat, crowded witli 
seamen and marines, putting off from a frigate 
lying right ahead of us. The tide Avas running 
strong out of the harbour. A young midshipman 
was at the helm, and he did not seem to have made 
due allowance for the strength of the current 
The consequence was, that the boat drifted down 
some way below the intended place of landing, 
and, while he was putting her head up the har- 
bour to regain his lost 'ground, her keel struck the 
mast of a barge which had sunk the day before, 
and which scarcely showed above the water. In 
an instant over she went, and the people in her 
were spilt out into the eddying, rusliiiig tide- way. 
Some struck out for the ^hore, few clung on luo 


NEIL d’AKCY'S life AT SEA. 


121 


boat, and others came drifting down helplessly 
with the current. 

So suddenly had the accident occurred, that I 
had not a moment to consider what was best to be 
done, nor to call any one from below. Fortunately, 
we had a punt alongside. Casting off the painter, 
I jumped into her, and shoved her off* to where 
three men were struggling, close ahead of the cut- 
ter. I caught hold of one who was just sinking, 
and hauled him over the bows, while the other 
two got in without my help. I looked round to 
eee what had become of the rest of the people. 
Two marines were clinging to the keel of the boat, 
and she was on the point of striking our stern, by 
which she would have be'en carried under our bot- 
tom, when I sculled alongside and got the two 
jollies on board. By the glance I had at her just 
before I observed that another person had been 
with them, while, as I was getting in the three 
ffrst men, a cry for help had reached my ears. 

‘‘ Oh ! sir, there’s Mr. gone, poor fel- 

xow !” exclaimed one of the marines saved. 
‘‘ There he is, though !” 

Directly under the water, where he pointed, 1 
saw a head of hair, or a bunch of seaweed, I could 
not tell which ; but, on the chance of its being the 
former, I sculled np to it. The sun shone forth 
brightly, and I caught a glimpse of a human face 
convulsed with agony beneath the tide. Twice it 
eluded me ; but stretching out my arm, and almost 
going os^erboard and capsizing our already over- 
crovv'ded boat, I got firm hold of a person by the 
hair, who, I saw, had a midshipman’s patch on the 
collar of his jacket. I had some difficulty in get- 
ting the seemingly lifeless body of my brother of- 
ficer into the boat. 

Seeing that there was no one else to be saved — 
11 


122 


SAIT WATER; OR, 


for several boats had shoved off from the sl/x'rv and 
vessels at anchor near at hand to pick up rhe rest 
of the people — I paddled' my nearly sink mg boat 
alongside the cutter. Hearing my hail as 1 juriped 
into the punt the crew had rushed on deck; and 
were standing ready to hand on board die half* 
drowned midshipman and the men I had been the 
means of saving. The latter were none the worse 
for their ducking, except that their clothes were 
wettish. 

“ You’ll want a clean shirt, mate,” said one of 
our people to a Patlander from the frigate. 

“Arrah! now didn’t I put a dry one in my 

E ocket this blessed morning; so it will be all 
andy for me,” he exclaimed, diving into the re- 
cesses of his dripping peacoat. 

The midshipman, who was still insennible, was, 
by Hanks’s advice, carried down into the gun-room. 
We were unwilling to run the risk of the delay 
which must have occurred had he been conveyed 
on board his own ship. 

“ Bring a glass of hot grog ; and let it be pretty 
stiff, steward !” said Hanks, as we were engaged 
in stripping our patient and putting him into my 
berth between the blankets. 

We then set to work to rub his body with a 
coarse worsted sock, the first suitable thing which 
came to hand. Having got some of the sdt water 
he had swallowed out of his mouth. Hanks poured 
a little warm grog into it instead. This, with the 
rubbing, had the effect of speedily restoring ani- 
mation. In a few minutes he opened his eyes, and 
tried to sit up and look about him. 

“Hillo ! where am I? I say, are the poor fel- 
lows all picked up ?” he asked, in a weak tone. 

I liked liim at once for thinking of his men. 


ItElL d’arCY^S life AT SEA. 


123 


“All right, mate,” I answered; “no harm has 
come of the capsize, except a few wet jackets.” 

Just then, on looking round, I saw a man, who 
by his uniform I knew to be a naval surgeon, 
standing near me. “ So I see you’ve saved me my 
work, gentlemen,” he said, smiling ; “ you could 
not have acted better than you appear to have 
done ; and, thanks to you, we shall soon have him 
all right again.” 

• “ Thank’ee, doctor. I’ve come round pretty well, 
already,” sung out the midshipman. “ But, I say, 
mate, I just want another glass of your stuff — ^it’s 
prime physic.” 

The medico smelt the tumbler, which stood on 
the table full of grog, and then felt the youngster’s 
pulse and looked at his tongue. 

“You may take half a glass, — ^it’s quite enough 
for you, and then we’ll have you wrapped up in 
blankets, and carried on board,” he answered. 

“Oh, thank’ee doctor, I’m very comfortable 
where I am, and my clothes ain’t dried yet ; so, if 
you’ll let me stay here, I think it would be the 
better for me,” said the midshipman. 

The doctor’s objections, if he had any, were 
soon overruled ; and, telling the midshipman to 
return on board the frigate as soon as his clothes 
were dry, he quitted the cutter. 

“What’s your name, mate?” asked my new 
friend, as he was sipping his glass of grog. 

I told him. 

“ Mine’s Bichard Sharpe ; but I’m mostly called 
Dicky Sharpe,” he answered. “ Some of my mess- 
mates give me all sorts of names ; but I don’t 
mind them. As long as they don’t cobb me it’s 
all very well. I’m a liappy fellow, and ready for 
all the ups and downs of life. I’m pretty well 
wide awaKe, and know my duty, so I don’t often 


124 


SALT water; or, 


get mastheaded. If I happen to get a fall, I gener 
ally manage to pitch on my feet ; and as I’m some 
day or other, to come into a fortune. Pm not 
troubled about the future. If the Lords Commis- 
sioners of the Admirality give me my promotion, 
it will be all very well, — ^if not, wty they’ll hav<e 
to dispense with my valuable services, and the 
country will be the loser.” 

I was highly edified by Master Dicky’s philoso- 
phy, and I at once conceived a great regard and 
respect for him. 

“ How, D’Arcy, my boy,” he continued, in his 
free and easy tone, “ it’s stupid work lying here 
between the blankets ; so, if you’ll just give me 
the loan of some of your toggery till mine are dry. 
I’ll sit up at table and crack a bottle of wine with 
you.” 

I had to remind him of the early hour, and to 
confess that wine our mess did not possess, but that 
he should have some breakfast and hot tea, which 
would be better for him, and that he should be 
welcome to my clothes. 

While he was seated at table. Hanks, who had 
gone on deck to see the medico off, returned. 
‘‘Well, D’Arcy, I told him how you had saved 
the youngster" and the other men,” he said ; “ it 
will be a feather in your cap, my lad, and you de- 
serve to wear it.” 

“ What !” exclaimed my volatile young friend, 
grasping my hand, while the tears came into his 
eyes, “you saved me from drowning? — On my 
word, I’m very much obliged to you. I shouldn’t 
like to have become food for fishes just yet. I’d 
rather eat a few dinners off them first.” 

“ Oh, faith I could not have done less if you’d 
been only a sheep or a pig,” I answered, laugning; 
“ so you’ve little lo thank me for.” 


NEIL d’AROY’S life AT SEA. 


125 


“ 1 suppose, though, even a sheep or a pig would 
have tried to show their gratitude, unless you had 
intended to turn them into mutton and pork 
directly afterwards,” replied Dicky Sharpe ; ‘‘ so, 
D’Arcy, I must look upon you as my friend and 
preserver; and I just wish, wlien you can get 
leave, that you would come down and see my 
governor and mother and sisters. They won’t 
make much of you, won’t tliey, that’s all.’’ 

I told him that I should be very glad to accept 
his invitation if I could ; but at the time I was think- 
ing that my aunt and Miss Alice w^ould admire the 
feather Hanks said I might wear in my cap more 
than anybody else. I never met a merrier or more 
contented fellow than Dicky Sharpe. I was quite 
sorry to lose him when his clothes were dry and a 
boat came alongside to take him on board his ship, 
the Cynthia. What w^as my surprise to receive 
by her, at the same time, a note from the captain 
of the frigate, inviting me to dine with him on the 
following day, stating that he wished to thank me 
for the presence of mind I had displayed in saving 
the lives of one of his midshipmen and several of 
his people. 

“ I’m glad to hear it,” exclaimed Hanks ; “ it 
shows your talents are not hid under a bushel; 
and now get away over to Hyde with that note in 
your pocket, and explain its meaning in the best 
you can.” 

1 jumped into a wherry just then passing, and 
in less than an hour landed at Hyde Pier, whence 
I found my way up to Daisy Cottage. My aunt 
was delighted to hear my story, which, I hatter 
mvself, I told with all the innate modesty of an 
Irishman. Alice, I thought, blushed her approval 
most sweetly, and my uncle congratulated me 
warmly. I spent a very pleasant evening, some 

11* f* 


126 


SALT WATER; OR, 


of the time walking with Alice on the shore, and 
resting under the trees, which come, almost close 
down to the water’s edge. I found that I could 
not dine with Captain Bruff, as we were to sail 
next morning for the westward ; so I was obliged 
to be content with the empty honour of the invi- 
tation ; and, I dare say, my absence did not break 
his heart. I was more sorry to miss seeing Dicky 
Sharpe again, as I should have liked to have had 
another palaver with him, and before our return 
the Cynthia would probably have sailed. 


CHAPTER X. 

L CHASE — A PRIZE — CAPTURE A FRENCH SMUGGLER — OUR PRIS- 
ONER’S POLITENESS — ^DO NOT TRUST A GREEK, EVEN WHEN 
POLITE. 

At the hour I was asked to dine with Captain 
Bruff we were running out at the Needles, with a 
fresh breeze and a tliick, drizzling rain, which 
called peacoats and sou’westers into requisition. 
We cruised about for three or four days without' / 
seeing any thing suspicious ; not a tub afloat, nor a 
craft with a smuggling look about her. At last 
we found something to give us employment. One 
evening a mist settled down over the water, which, 
though there was a good breeze, was perfectly 
calm. Although the night was in no ways dark, 
yet the density of the fog prevented our seeing 
beyond the bowsprit end, or even so far. It was 
just such a night as a smuggler del^hts in. The 
cutter was on ner old ground, off' Portland Bill. 
We were slipping through the water at the rate of 
some flve or six knots an hour^, when Stretcher, 


NEIL d'AECY’S life AT SEA. 127 

who was st anding close to me, exclaimed, “ Ah ! see 
there, sir ; there^ a craft of some sort right away 
to leeward, trying to steal off from ns.” I looked, 
and could just distinguish the shadowy form of a 
sail through the mist. The commander was called, 
and the cutter was instantly kept away in chase. 
Jack pronounced her to be a wherry ; but I thought 
her something much larger. The wind was from 
the southward, and she, choosing what was proba- 
bly her best point of sailing, made for the English 
coast. She sailed well ; but we kept her in sight, 
for daylight had just broke, and the mist had par- 
tially cleared away. As soon as my uncle came 
on deck he ordered a shot to be hred wide of 
her, to make her heave-to. She paid no atten- 
tion to it. 

“Fire another. Stretcher, right into her this 
time, and we will make her show her quality,” 
said he. 

The mists had now cleared off sufficiently to 
show that she was a wherry, though rather a small 
one. The shot went through her foresail, but still 
she held on. She was heavily laden, and her 
crew must have seen that her chance of escape 
was small, if not impossible. To render this still 
^more difficult, it was every instant growing lighter 
and ligliter. There were numerous sharp eyes on 
board the cutter fixed on her, and we now perceived 
her crew heaving the tubs overboard as fast as 
they could. They fancied, probably, that we could 
not see them. There were ho weights attached #o 
them, so they fioated ; but, as we had no time to 
stop and pick them up, we noted carefully our 
course as we passed them, so as to be able to find 
them again. 

“ Fire away at her, my lads, till she heaves to,” 
cried my uncle, seeing that she still held on. 


128 


SALT WATEE; OR, 


“Sarely she’ll not get away from us,” I re- 
marked to Jack. 

“ISTot so sure of that, Mr. D’Arcy,” he an- 
swered. “hTow she’s got her cargo out of her, 
should the wind fall on a sudden, and the fog 
come on thicker, she may contrive to hide herseli 
away in it before we can get our boats out.” 

The fog deceived us as to her true distance from 
us, for, after the first, none of our shot struck her, 
though that mattered nothing, for, the breeze 
freshening, we were now coming up with her hand 
over hand. 

‘‘ Lower your canvas !” shouted my uncle, as we 
got near. 

Her people thought it wise to obey, to avoid the 
shot, which could not now well miss its aim. She 
was next ordered to pull alongside, which she im- 
mediately did ; but there was not a symptom of a 

" '' in her. She had live hands 



desired to come on board. 


One of them acknowledged himself the skipper. 

“We want to know why you chased and fired 
at us, sir,” he said, in the most innocent manner 
possible,^ addressing my uncle. 

“For having contraband goods on board,” he 
answered. 

“ Lord love ye, sir — we have contraband goods 
aboard, sir !” rej^lied the skipper, with a feigned 
look of surprise. “We was just taking our 
pleasuring, and didn’t know but what you was an 
enemy, or a pirate, or some chap of that sort, so 
we runned away, sir, do ye see.” 

“ Yery well ; you’ll remain on board the cutter 
for the present, and perhaps I may prove to the 
contrary,” said my uncle. 

The smugglers were compelled, with a very bad 
grace, to go below; the wherry was dropped 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA 


129 


astern, and the cutter stood back over the ground 
we had before crossed. Before eight bells we had^ 
picked up fifty tubs of brandy. As plenty of our 
people could swear that they saw a number of tubs 
thrown overboard from the wherry, there was no 
doubt of her being condemned. When our pris- 
oners perceived that their escape was impossible, 
they seemed to screw themselves up to their re- 
verses like brave men. Though somewhat down 
in the mouth, they apparently felt no ill-will, bul 
were obedient and respectful. Luck was against 
them. They had tried to smuggle, and we, as ii 
duty bound, had stopped them. The worst they 
had to expect was a few months’ residence in Win- 
chester gaol. My uncle had each of them down 
separately in his cabin, to try and obtain any in- 
formation they might be inclined to give, especially 
about Myers, whom he was most anxious to get 
hold of. From one of them he learned that a 
large lugger was to run across the following 
night but one, from Cherbourg, and he resolved 
to intercept her. A course was immediately 
shaped for that port. He had explained his plan 
to Hanks, who was to take the wherry with four 
hands and to keep a bright look-out for the lugger, 
and to board her if he met her as soon as she was 
half way across channel. I obtained leave to ac- 
company him ; for, though I could not be ex- 
pected to do much while blows were being given 
and taken, I was considered a good hand at steer- 
ing, and my uncle was glad to let me see as much 
service as possible, holding the opinion that in 
that way only could I become a good practical 
officer. 

When we had got about mid-channel between 
St. Catharine’s and Cherbourg, the cutter was hove- 
to and the wherry hauled up alongsidCr 


180 


SALT water; or, 


“ Success attend you,’’ said my uncle, as Hanks 
and I stepped into the wherry. ^‘Mind, Mr. 
Hanks, keep a sharp look-out for the lugger ; but 
do not let any thing else with a smuggling air about 
her escape unexamined.” 

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Hanks, as we shoved 
off; “I hope to get hold of the logger, and 
Myers in her.” 

We had in the boat provisions for four or five 
days ; cloaks, blankets, a compass, and lantern, 
with three muskets, and pistols and cutlasses for 
each person. Our directions were to cruise about 
for three days, should the weather remain moder- 
ate, and then to rejoin the cutter off the Heedles. 
We started away with a light breeze and a smooth 
sea, and stood for a short way towards Cherbourg, 
while the cutter returned over part of the course 
she had come. Our crew had donned their man- 
of-war rig, and had put on foul-weather clothing ; 
and Hanks and I had covered up our uniforms 
with great-coats, and we wore round tarpaulins on 
our heads, so that no one would have guessed our 
real character. The weather was very pleasant, 
and the sunbeams sparkled cheerily on the rippling 
wavelets caused by the meeting of the tide, and 
wind, as we ran through the water at the rate of 
some five or six knots an hour. Hanks lighted 
his favourite short black pipe, such as in Ireland 
we should call a “ dodeen.” He never indulged 
in a cigar, except one was given him. While he 
leaned back, with his legs stretched along the 
seats, I steered. I used to think it very hard that 
he would never let me smoke, but I have since 
been much obliged to him. 

“This is what I call comfort, Heil,” said he. 
“ One of the smooths of life ; but it won’t last, so 
let us enjoy it while we can. Before long we may 


NEIL d’AECY’S life AT SEA. 131 

be getting broken heads, with a gale of wind into 
the bargain.” 

So he smoked his pipe, took ever and anon a sip 
from the riim-bottle, sang a snatch from a song, 
and joked and talked away till the sun began to 
hasten his descent into the ocean. We were all 
the time keeping a look-out for any suspicious 
craft. 

Al last the sails of a lugger appeared against the 
evening sky as she got clear of the land. We 
made sure it was the vessel we were in search of, 
and prepared for action. 

“D’Arcy, do you stay at the helm, and keep 
the wherry alongside, while the rest of us jump 
aboard,” said Hanks. Stretcher, you must knock 
down the fellow at the helm — ^I’ll grapple with the 
skipper — if they show tight.” 

On came the lugger. 1 thought it very unlikely 
if Myers was on board, from his well-known char- 
acter, that he would fail to show fight; indeed, it 
seemed much more probable that he would do his 
best to knock us all on the head, and heave us 
overboard again, should we manage to set foot on 
his deck. However, I said nothing; and felt just 
as eager for the fray as if such an idea had not 
crossed my mind. 

Hanks had been taking a steady look at the lug- 
ger through his spy-glass. “ Well !” he exclaimed, 
hang me if I don’t think, after all, that she’s one 
of those Frencli chasse marees. Our lugger hasn’t 
yet come out.” 

‘‘ D’ye think, sir, that they chaps was deceiving 
of us?” said Jack. “They be up to all sorts of 
dodges.” 

“ Oh, hang it, no ; I hope not,” answered Hanks, 
with considerable doubt, notwithstanding, in his 
tone. “ The Commander cross-(^uestioned them a 


182 


SALT WATER; OR, 


great deal too close for them to deceive us. We 
shall see the right craft by-and-by.” 

We were soon convinced, howe^^r, that the lug- 
ger in sight was a chdsse maree. She hauled her 
wind, and stood along shore. Had she observed 
us she would, probably, have had no little sus- 
picion of our business out there. 

After watching for the lugger to no purpose for 
three hours or more, the moon rose out of the dark 
water, and gave us a wider range of vision. Hour 
after hour passed away, and still she did not ap- 
pear. We began at last to be afraid, either that 
the smugglers had deceived us, or that she had 
slipped out and passed us unobserved. As our 
blockade might be somewhat long. Hanks divided 
the crew into watches, he taking command of one, 
and I of the other. When it was my turn to sleep, 
I rested as soundly as I usually did in my own 
berth, though I dreamed that 1 had caught sight 
of Myers, and that I was chasing him round and 
round the world with a pmr of ten-league boots on 
my legs. How he kept mt^ad of me I could not 
tell. Hanks awoke me to take some breakfast, 
and then let me go to sleep again, for I was so 
drowsy that I could not keep my eyes open. 
While 1 was still more asleep than awake, I heard 
Jack’s voice exclaim — 

“ That’s her, sir. I’ll take my davy.” 

“ Yes, that’s her, and no mistake, this time,” 
added Hanks. 

I was on my feet in a moment, and looking to- 
wards the French coast I saw a lugger, about two 
miles off, running down to us. All hands were on 
the alert, and every preparation was made to en- 
sure the success of our enterprise. W e hauled our 
wind, and steered a course so as to intercept her, 
without, if possible, exciting the suspicion of the 


NEIL 'D^AROy’Q LIFE AT SEA. 


133 


Brniigglers till we were alongside. As the sea was 
perfectly smootli, and the wind light, we should 
ha /e no difficulty in getting on board. Hanks, 
da 3k, and I alone showed ourselves; the rest were 
oidered to lie down in the bottom of the boat. 
Ihe lugger, we could see, was heavily laden, and 
her general appearance betokened , her to be 
French. 

“Kemember, my lads, we shall have to give 
and take some hard blows ; but sharp’s the word, 
and she’ll be ours before her people know what we 
aue after,” exclaimed Hanks, in an inspiriting tone. 
It was an exciting moment. As we drew near, we 
could count some twelve men or more on her deck. 
We were by this time well over on the British half 
of the Channel. 

‘‘ Keep her away a little, H’Arcy,” said Hanks. 
The smugglei’s had been watching us without ap- 
parently suspecting our intentions. “ How, hard 
up ! — Ease off the main-sheets ! — Hook on ! — Fol- 
low me, my lads !” 

As Hanks uttered the last words we had run 
alongside. The next moment he leaped over the 
bulwarks of the lugger on to her deck, and grap- 
pling with her captain, a Frenchman, tripped him 
uj). Jack at the same time knocked down the man 
at the helm with a boat’s stretcher. There was a 
mighty deal of jabbering and swearing in French, 
and some round oaths uttered in English, when, 
as Hanks was working his way forward, some of 
the crew, plucking courage, made a rush, and, 
seizing him, bore him overboard — fortunately, on 
the larboard side, on the same which the wherry 
was : small thanks to the smugglers on that ac- 
count. We were going through the water, it must 
be remembered, though not very q-uick. Hanks 
made a desperate attempt to clamber on boaid 
12 


134 : 


SALT water; or, 


again by the lugger’s forechains, but missed his 
aim ; then, giving a glance of defiance at the ras- 
cals, he kept himself afioat while he sung out, 
“ Hillo, D’Arcy, lend me a hand here.” 

Directly I saw what had happened, I seized an 
oar, and thrust it out towards him. He grasped 
it as we passed by, and quickly clambered into 
the wherry. The moment after, with the stretcher, 
which he had never let out of his grasp, he was 
again on the lugger’s deck, belabouring, both right 
and left, those of the crew who still resisted. As 
none of the smugglers had seen him get out of the 
water, they were completely taken by surprise, 
and, without striking another blow, sung out foi 
quarter. 

“You don’t deserve it, you blackguards, for 
daring to resist asking’s officer in the execution of 
his duty,” cried Hanks, flourishing his stretcher. 
“ But, foi’ward with you, there, and don’t move till 
I give you leave.” The Frenchmen did not un- 
derstand him, but the English smugglers did, and 
his action showed what he desired. The crew 
were soon penned up in the forepart of the vessel, 
with the exception of the captain and the man 
Jack had knocked down, who were sitting on deck 
rubbing their eyes, hardly yet recovered. Scarcely 
three minutes had passed since we ran alongside, 
and the lugger was ours. I was still in the boat, 
waiting for orders. 

“ Come on board, D’Arcy,” said Hanks at length, 
looking over the side ; “ we’ll lower the wherry’s 
Bails, and tow her astern.” 

I gladly jumped out of her when we had stowed 
her canvas and made fast the painter. Our prize 
turned out to be a valuabla one, for she had not 
only spirits, but silk and lace on bo-ard. Her 
papei-s clearly proved also that these goods were 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


136 


intended to be smuggled, so I remember Hanks 
saying ; but how that was I did not trouble myself, 
nor do I to this day know. The smugglers, as well 
they might, were certainly sulky ; and Hanks, as 
a gentle hint for them to behave themselves, sta- 
tioned a man with a double-barrelled pistol in his 
hand close to them, while they stood huddled to- 
gether on the little forecastle. I took the helm 
while the sails were trimmed and a course shaped 
for the Heedles. In a short time a breeze sprang 
up, and we spanked along at a furious rate. The 
French skipper had now recovered, and getting on 
his legs, with a polite bow, expressed a hope, in 
tolerable English, that we would make ourselves 
at home on board his vessel. 

“Ho fear of that, monsieur,” answered Hanks. 
“ Cool, is he not, D’Arcy 

“ You no have taken dinner, sare,” continued 
the skipper ; “ I will tell de cook to make dinner 
ready.” 

“ Hot a bad idea, monsieur,” said Hanks ; “ which 
of you chaps is cook ?” 

The Frenchman pointed to the fellow whose 
head Jack had nearly broken. He spoke a few 
words to him, and the man — having got up and 
stretched himself, to ascertain I suppose that no 
bones were broken — dived below, and presently 
returned with a white cap and apron, and several 
pans and dishes, and began busying himself in the 
mysteries of his art. Again he dived, the fire in 
the forepeak burned up brightly, and savory 
smells began to ascend therefrom. In about an 
hour the skipper, with another bow, invited us 
into his little well-like cabin aft, where a collation, 
such as an epicure might envy, was placed before 
us. What were its component parts I did not in- 
quire. They may have been cats and fro^s, but 


136 


SALT water; or, 


aeitker Hanks nor I was in any way particular; 
and no dreadful surmises crossed my mind. An 
Englisliman would hav6 broached a keg of brandy, 
but our friend, Monsieur Didot, placed a bottle of 
fine-flavoured claret and a variety of first- rate 
liqueurs before us, not that either Hanks or I was 
well able to apj)reciate the former. 

“ Come, monsieur, hand us out a bottle of some 
real stuff or othei^ I’m not fond of your pink vine- 
gars,” exclaimed Hanks, as he tossed ofiT a tumbler 
of the claret. “This isn’t bad for washing the 
dust out of a fellow’s throat on a hot day, but 
there’s no life-blood in it.” 

The skipper, with a twinkle of his eyes which 
betokened mischief, though unfortunately Hanks 
did not perceive it, produced a large square bottle, 
thick at the top, from which he poured out a glass 
of first-rate Scheidam. Hanks smacked his lips as 
he tasted it. 

“ Take care, Heil, my child,” said he, “ you don’t 
swallow much of that stuff ; it’s too good ; I’ll just 
smack at another glass, and then we’ll go on deck 
out of the way of temptation.” 

The R-enchman looked mightily disappointed 
when he saw that Hanks was not so easily taken 
in as he doubtless expected he would be. I hap- 
pened to look round as we left the cabin, and saw 
him shrugging his shoulders and making hideous 
grimaces, and no very complimentary gestures, at 
us. Before this little incident I had thought him 
die pink of politeness. He wore love-locks and 
rings in his ears, and was dressed with the most 
accurate French nautical precision ; in fact, he 
looked thoroughly unlike an English seaman. lu 
his manners he was a very mild man, and certainly 
he had nothing of the ruffian about him. I can- 
not say as much for his crew, some of whom wor« 


NEIL D'ARCY'S life AT SEA. 


13 '; 


very ill-looking -dogs. It would have been ^\iser 
in Hanks to have handcuffed tliem all, including 
the skipper and cook, (though we should thereby 
have gone without a good dinner,) and stationed a 
sentry with a loaded musket over them, with orders 
to shoot the first who should attempt to escape. 

The French skipper, when he found that his plan 
to obfuscate the brains of the knowing old Hanks 
had totally failed, went and sat himself down 
forward among his people, apparently in a fit of 
the sulks. 

Hanks, who was in high spirits at the success of 
our enterprise, walked the deck with me, looking 
out for the high land of the Isle of Wight above 
the Heedle rocks, which we were approaching. 
The breeze had increased and kicked up a little 
sea, and we were rimning fast through the water. 

‘‘D’Arcy, my boy, this is a fine haul, isn’t it ?” 
exclaimed my superior, rubbin^iis hands ; “ credit 
and prize money together. , JBoth good things. 
When I was a youngster I thought something 
about the first ; but now, do you see, Mrs. Hanks 
and I have a fancy for t’other. It keeps the pot 
boiling, do ye see? I should think yom* uncles, by 
this time, was much of my way of thinking, though 
he’s a round number of years younger than I am.” 

“I’m not so sure of that,” said I. “My uncle 
thinks a good deal of gaining honour, and I believe 
he’d rather take an enem;;p6 frigate after a hard- 
fought action, than capture a Spanish galleon 
without a blow.” 

“Well, it’s the proper spirit,’' said Hanks, with 
a sigh. “ The revenue service don’t nourish it 
much, though. Take my advice, — ^get out of it as 
soon as you can ; or,” he continued with much 
feeling, “it will spoil you, otherwise, depend 
on it. 

12 * 


188 


SALT WATEli; OK, 


We continued wallving tlie deck for some time 
longer; we then sat down to rest, watching the 
coast, from which we were about three miles dis- 
tant. 

Jack was at the helm, and the rest of our people 
were giving a hand to the sheets, as the wind had 
veered a little to the westward. 

The smugglers were, seemingly, fast asleep, with 
the exception of the skipper, who had lighted a 
cigar to console himself mider his mishap. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE TABLES TURNED — CONSOLE MYSELF WITH MY FIDDLE — 

SET THE FRENCHMEN DANCING — CAPTAIN DIDOT MY 

PLACE OF IMPRISONMENT — ESCAPE — GREATER DANGER — 
FRIGHTEN MY FRIENDS. 

Every thing was going on as tranquilly as pos- 
sible. Hanks was sweeping the horizon with his 
glass, looking out for the cutter, when suddenly, with- 
out the slightest warning, I saw the sentry’s pistol 
knocked out of his fist, and he himself hove head- 
long into the sea. Away flew the skipper’s cigar, 
and up he jumped, as lively as a cricket, and, with 
two of his men, threw himself upon Hanks, who, 
taken unawares, (his eyes engaged in his telescope,) 
was bundled overboard. I tried to catch him by 
the leg, hut his old blue trowsers tore in my grasp, 
and a big Frenchman dealt me such a blow on the 
head, that I was for an instant stunned. 

When I came to my senses, I saw the wherry 
dropping astern, and the Frenchmen, with pump- 
handles and boat-hooks, striking at the poor fellows 
they had hove overboard, with the foul intent of 


NEIL d’ARCY'S life AT SEA. 


139 


drowning them. 1 observed that somebody was in 
the wherry, for her sails were being hoisted, and 1 
was bolting aft for the purpose of jumping into the 
water and swimming to her, wlien the skipper 
caught me b j the arm. “ Stay, my little fellow,” 
he exclaimed ; “ we don’t want to hurt you, and 
don’t want witnesses to this work ; you must go 
with us.” 

While he was speaking, some of the smugglei’s 
had got hold of the muskets which our people had 
brought on board, and, presenting them at the 
wherry, snapped the locks. Fortunately they were 
not loaded, or the priming had fallen out, and the 
villains were saved from the perpetration of fur 
ther crimes. 

The men in the water swam towards the wherry, 
and I judged from her movements that those in hei 
were engaged in picking them up. I sang out and 
struggled in vain; but the Frenchman held me 
fast, and finally, to save himself further trouble, 
lifted me up by the collar and shoved me down the 
companion-hatch into the cabin, closing the slide 
over me. There was I, like a mouse caught in a 
trap. At first I burst into a fit of tears, more from 
rage and indigiiation at being outwitted and sur- 
prised by the Frenchman than for the prospect in 
store for me, which was not, however, very pleas- 
ant. I might expect to be kept a prisoner in some 
out-of-the-way place in France, or, perhaps, to be 
shipped to the other side of the globe, and to be 
unable to return home for years to come. I made 
inefi‘ectual attempts to get on deck to see what had 
become of Hanks and our men; but, as I could 
not move the slide, I was obliged to sit down 
quietly in the cabin. My melting mood was soon 
over. “ Better now,” thought I to myself ; ‘‘ ] 
ou’t let these big blackguards of Frenchmen see 


140 


SALT WATER; OB, 


me down-hearted, any how. For the honoui of old 
L'eland and the name of D’Arcy I’ll put a bold 
face on the matter,” and I began to sing. 

There was a row on deck, and a great deal of 
jabbering; and the little vessel heeled over to the 
breeze ; but I had no means of discovering what 
was taking place, nor where we were going. 

The only light let into the vessel was through a 
bulls-eye in the deck, so that, at first, I thought I 
was shut up ill darkness. As, however, my sight 
got accustomed to the glimmer, I discovered a 
nddle and bow hung up against the bulkhead. 

“ Come,” thought I, ‘‘ I’ll show the froggies that, 
though they may shut me up, they can’t damp my 
spirits in a hurry ;” and, seizing the instrument, I 
struck up an Irish jig. It was the most jolly tune 
I could recollect, and seldom failed to move the 
heels of all who heard it. I played away for some 
time without any notice being taken of my music ; 
then I heard one fellow begin to shuffie away over- 
head, and then another, and presently it appeared 
as if the w^hole crew w^ere toeing and heeling it in 
fine style. Then there were loud fits of laughter ; 
and afterwards the slide was withdrawn and the 
u’ descended into the cabin. * 



‘‘Tell, you are, })on gargon^ one merry fellow,’^ 
he said, laughing, “you make good use of my 
violin.” 

“ I am fond of music, and play when I can,” 1 
answered in an indifferent tone; “but I’m tired 
now, and intend to go to sleep.” 

“Well, but I have come to take you on deck to 
play to my people,” said he ; “ they are pleased 
with you, and it will be better for you if you do.” 

“ What ! you ask me to play for the amusement 
of the men who have been ill-treating my shipmates 
and murdering them, for what I know to the con 


NEIL d’aECY’s life AT SEA. 141 

traiy,” I answered, indignantly. “ No ! I played 
for my own amusement, and do not intend to play 
any more,” 

“ Your shipmates attacked us first ; and besides, 
my little man, we have not murdered them, or 
done them much harm either, except depriving 
them of your company, and of a few muskets 
and pistols,” he answered. “Take my advice: be 
as obliging as you can ; they will be civil to you in 
return.” 

“ WeH, monsieur ; I believe you are right,” I re- 
plied ; “ if they really have not hm*t my brother 
officer and our men, I will fiddle for them as long 
as they like.” 

Saying this, I followed him on deck, where I 
seated myself on the companion-hatch; and as I 
played away, in spite of the tumbling of the little 
vessel in the heavy sea running, all the Frenchmen, 
including Monsieur Didot, kept skipping, and j ump- 
ing, and whirling about, hugging each other like 
bears, and shouting with glee at having saved their 
cargo from the clutches of the revenue people. 
Wq were standing, close hauled, towards the French 
coast. I looked anxiously for the wherry, for I 
thought Hanks would have followed ; but she was 
nowhere in sight. One of the Englishmen was at 
the helm, and the other two were forward. They 
were sulky brutes, and seemed much more bitter 
against me than were the Frenchmen. Whenever 
I ceased playing, the skipper gave me a hint to go 
on again; and there sat I, one of his Majesty’s 
officers, scraping away on an old Cremona for the 
amusement of a set of smugglers and outlaws. The 
scene struck me as so ludicrous that I burst into a 
loud fit of laughter till the tears began to stream 
down my cheeks. I fiddled all the faster, till the 
delight of the Frenchmen knew no bounds ; and as 


142 


SALT water; or, 


a proof of their regard, some of them came up and 
actually almost hugged the breath out of my body, 
calling me a brave gargon^ a jolly gafqon^ and an 
ornament to my country. This fun continued till 
we made the land, about dark. Some time after- 
wards, I found' that we were running into a small 
harbour, with a pier on one side and a lighthouse 
on it. Its name I could not learn ; but I supposed 
it was somewhere to the eastward of Cherbourg. 
I was trying to make out' the look of the place, 
when the captain, touching me on the shoulder, 
said, ‘‘ Go down below, my boy ; when I want you, 
I will come for you.” There was that in his tone 
which showed me that it would be useless to dis- 
pute his orders ; so I returned to the cabin. Find- 
ing a berth with some bed-clothes in it, I crept in, 
and, coiling myself away, was soon fast asleep. I 
was awoke after some time by the skipi)er’s voice. 
He was holding up a lantern, and looking round, 
seemingly much surprised at not seeing me. He 
laughed, as I poked my head out of my crib. 

“ Ah, mmi petit / you make yourself at home 
wherever you go,” he exclaimed ; “ but get up.; 
you must come with me, and I will find a worthy 
lady who will take good care of you for some time 
to come.” 

I answered that I was very much obliged to 
him, but that I wanted to return home as soon as 
possible. 

“ Ah, that cannot be,” said he, in a quiet tone. 
“ 1 am sorry to inconvenience you ; but you will 
allow that it is better to be kept a prisoner than 
to have been thrown overboard as food for the 
fish.” 

“Much obliged to you, monsieur,” I replied; 
“ I cannot dispute your reasoning ; so just be good 
enough to tell me what you want me to do.” 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


143 


“ To get lip and come with me,” said he ; “ and 
listen, my young friend, — if you attempt to run 
away, I will simply blow your brains out. I don’t 
wish you any harm, as I have proved ; but neces- 
sity compels me to be explicit.’^ 

I did not know whether or not he was in earnest ; 
but as it is dangerous to trifle with a man who has 
the power to put so unpleasant a threat in exe- 
cution, I thought it wisest to obey him. I accord- 
ingly followed him on deck, when he took my 
hand, and led me along a plank which was thrown 
from the vessel to the shore. We walked through 
the narrow street of a village odoriferous of flsh, 
and then out into the country, which, in agreeable 
contrast, smelt of fresh grass and flowers. Pro- 
ceeding along a road which, by looking at the 
stars overhead, I judged ran inland, we reached a 
farm-house, standing a little back from the road. 
The smuggler knocked with his flst at the door, 
but no one answered, nor was any light seen 
through the windows. We waited some further 
time without receiving any answer to our sum- 
mons. 

“ Morhleu ! I forgot the hour ; they have all 
gone to bed ; I must knock again,” said he, giving 
several thundering blows on the door. 

At length a female voice asked who was there. 

“ It is Captain Didot and a friend ; open quick, 
good Madeleine,” he said in French; “we are 
tired and hungry, and sleepy, and wish to be in- 
side instead of outside your door.” 

“ Ah ! it is you, Monsieur Didot, I know full 
well,” answered the voice : “I will let you in.” 

We were, however, kept some time longer, and 
at last the door opened, and a young woman made 
her appearance, dressed in a high white cap and 
gliort petticoats, dark woollen stochings, and wooden 


144 


SALT water; or, 


Bhoes, but very neat and trim. I liad never before 
Been a woman in so odd a rig. She smiled a wel- 
come to my companion, and, shutting the door 
behind us, a good deal of talking took place ; but 
though I could manage to make out Captain 
Didot’s French, I did not understand a word she 
said. We then went into a nice clean parlour, 
with a red-brick floor, and sat down and talked 
again. Suddenly, up jumped the lady in the high 
cap, and, after an absence of ten minutes or so, 
returned with a tray covered with eatables and 
drinkables. I instinctively drew my chair to the 
table at the sight without waiting to be bid, 
whereat our hostess smiled, and observed that the 
jpaimre enfant was hungry. Captain Didot took 
the hint and helped me ; nor did he forget him- 
self; and, setting to work, we made a very capital 
supper., 

“ I must now be off,” observed M. Didot, as he 
came to an anchor; “but before 1 go, I must give 
you a caution. Monsieur Englishman. You are 
not to make your appearance outside these garden 
walls for the next fortnight. If you attempt to 
get away, ill will come of it. Kemember that 
madame, here, will take care of you, and you may 
have as much fruit to eat and wine to drink as you 
like ; and now, good night, my friend. You hear, 
do you not ?” 

I did hear ; but I was so very sleepy that I could 
not recollect enough French to answer him. While 
he continued talking to madame, I dropped oft* 
asleep in my chair, and for long in my dreams I 
heard the buzz of their Voices. When I was at 
last awoke, by feeling a hand placed on my shoul 
der, the smuggling captain was gone. 

“ Come,” said the good-natured woman ; “ you 
want rest, my boy ;” and, taking a candle, she led 


NEIL d’aROY’s life AT SEA. 145 

me into a neat little room with a comfortable 
bed in it, where I very soon forgot myself in 
slumber. 

The next morning, when I turned out, I found 
that I was an occupant of a comfortable fariii- 
house, with a garden attached, full of fruit-trees 
and vegetables. An old man and his wife made 
their appearance, and I discovered that the young 
woman who had received us the previous night 
was their daughter. While we were at breakfast, 
I heard the old couple complaining of Captain 
Didot for having brought me there. They evi- 
dently fancied that I did not understand French. 

lie will be getting us into trouble with his 
tricks, one of these days,” remarked the old lady. 
“ Ah ! Madeleine, my daughter, it would be much 
wiser in you to have nothing more to say to him.” 

Mademoiselle looked very glum, as if she did 
not like the counsel. I pretended to be deeply 
absorbed, discussing the fresh eggs and other eat- 
ables placed before me. 

lia, ha!” thought I to myself; “I see how 
the wund blows. They wdll not dare, then, to 
keep me a prisoner longer than I like to stay. 
Well, I’m very comfortable here at present; so 
I will spend a day or so with the, good people.” 

I saw that I was narrowly w^atched wherever I 
went; but I did not forget the French skipper’s 
advice to take advantage of the fine fruit wdth 
which the garden abounded. When Madeleine 
saw that I was apparently contented we became 
very good friends ; and I must own thak I spent 
the day not unpleasantly. I began, however, to 
reflect that I had no business to remain where I 
was if I had the power of getting away ; so 1 
tm-ned in my mind how I could best make my 
escape. I guessed that to do so would not bo 


146 


SALT water; or, 


quite so easy as at first appeared ; for I had ob- 
served a labourer coutiuuaily near me, and I re- 
marked that whenever I went to a distant part' of 
the garden his occupation invariably took him in 
the same direction. 

Somehow or other I must manage to make a 
run for it,” thought I to myself ; but when I came 
to examine the locality, I found that the garden 
was surrounded with fields and ditches; and 
though I might swim across the latter, I should 
certainly have been caught and made very un- 
comfortable and dirty into the bargain. I there- 
fore gave up that idea, and amused myself in the 
best way I could. I helped Mademoiselle Made- 
leine in her poultry-yard and dairy, looked in on 
the old lady employed in her culinary affairs, 
walked over the farm with the old man, and chat- 
ted in my somewhat unintelligible French with 
every one I met. Happening to go into my own 
room in the evening, I found the window open, 
and, looking out, I saw that the height from the 
sill to the ground was not more than from twelve 
to fifteen feet. 

‘‘ Ho, ho !” thought I ; “it will be a foolish bird 
which can’t get out of a cage like this ; but I will 
bide my time. I hurried away, and ran down 
stairs, where I was soon after summoned to sup- 
per. I made myself quite at home, and did not 
fail to do justice to the meal. The household went 
to rest early, and as soon as I fancied every one 
was asleep I got up from my bed, where 1 had 
tin-own nayself, and reconnoitred the ground. To 
avoid the risk of laming myself by a jump, I tied 
my sheets together, and secured them to the leg 
of a table, which I managed to jam between the 
shutter and the wall so as to prevent its slipping, 
and placing my hat tightly on my head, and but- 


NEIL D’AROY’S life At SEA. 


147 


toning up my coat, I let myself quietly down to 
the ground. I was afraid of awakening some one 
in the house should I run, as I felt inclined to do , 
so I crept softly away, till I had got to some dis- 
tance, and then took to my heels, as fast as I could 
go, in the direction of the town or tishing village 
where I had landed. After going for some dis 
.ance, I thought that I must have missed my way ; 
out the murmur of the water on the beach assured 
Tne that I had taken the right direction. At last 1 
found myself among some straggling cottages, my 
nose helping me to hnd the locality I was in 
search of. My first care was to look out for the 
lugger, to • avoid her. Much to my satisfaction, 
she was not there, neitlier was any one moving on 
the quay ; so I walked about till I found a shed 
somewhat less odorous than its neighbours, where 
I determined to take up my abode till daylight. 
Here I quickly made myself a nest with some 
ropes and spars — albeit not a very soft one — and 
fell fast asleep. Having the necessity of being 
alert on my mind, I awoke just as dawn was 
breaking, and, jumping up, I ran down to the 
quay. The flapping of a sail told me that some 
one was astir, and, looking round, I saw at the end 
of the quay a cutter preparing to get under weigh. 

Cutter ahoy !” I^sung out, running the chance 
^ '' understanding me. “Where are you 



“ Hillo ; who are you asked a voice in Eng- 
lish. 

“I want a cast across the Channel,” I answered. 

“Well, come aboard, and we’ll see what we can 
do for you,” said the same speaker. 

I accordingly ran along the quay, and jumj^ed 
on the cutter^s deck just as her last warp was cast 
ofif I had a rough Flushing coat buttoned up 


148 SALT water; or, 

close round me; and as I had on also a icw tar 
paiilin hat, 1 thought I looked the character I 
wished to assume. The people on board were 
likewise too busy to afford me more than a passing 
glance as I sprung on deck. A rough, weather- 
beaten old fellow, with one eye, \yho, from the 
orders he issued, I knew to be the master, stood at 
the helm. His crew consisted of seven hands, 
strong, active-looking fellows — many more thaii 
the craft required to work her. This circumstance 
at once made me suspect that she was not over 
honest. 

‘‘Faith,” thought I to myself, “this isn’t the 
best place in the world for a revenue officer to find 
himself in.” 

But it was now too late to get on shore again. 
The headsheets were let draw, the main eased off a 
little, the peak hoisted up, and, with a fair breeze, 
the cutter glided out of the harbour. 

“Well, youngster, you were not long in making 
up your mind about coming,” said the old skipper, 
scrutinizing me, 1 thought, pretty narrowly from 
head to foot. “What place are you bound for 
eh?” 

I told him Hyde, in the Isle of Wight. 

“Well, we’ll j)ut you ashore at the back of the 
Wight. I suppose that will do for you ?” he an- 
swered, in a good-natured tone. 

I thanked him for his offer ;^and we went on 
talking very amicably for some^me, till we had 
run some fifteen miles from the. coast. I think, 
from the first, the old man had some suspicions of 
me ; but I had acted my part well, and I fancied 
that I had succeeded in lulling them. 

Just as I thought all was right, as ill-luck would 
have it, I happened to want to use my pocket- 
handkerchief, and in searching for it I incautiously 


KEIL D’AKOY^S life AT SEA. 


140 


threw open my jacket and exposed my uniform 
buttons to view. 

In the first place, the sort of boy I pretended to 
be would not have possessed such an article as a 
pocket-handkerchief, and I ought to have remem- 
bered that the sight of the crown and anchoi 
would not be acceptable to persons of my friends 
vocation. 

« Why — hillo, youngster ! who are you, I shouk 
like to know exclaimed the old skipper, seizing 
me by the arm, and giving me no gentle shake. 

“He’s a spy, surely, and no mistake,” cried 
several of the crew. “ Heave the young shrimp 
overboard.” 

“ Overboard with him !” exclaimed the rest in 
chorus. “We’ll teach the government to send 
their whelps to hunt us out in this fashion.” 

I own that I began to feel very uncomfortable ; 
for the threatening looks of the fellows were in no 
way calculated to lessen my apprehensions. How, 
my feelings always prompt me to try and escape 
from a dilemma by at once candidly confessing the 
truth. I therefore acknowledged that I belonged 
to a revenue cutter, and explained what had oc- 
curred. 

“ I only obeyed the orders of my supenor offi- 
cers in attacking the lugger,” I observed, in as 
bold a tone as I could manage to muster. “ Her' 
people carried me off against my will ; and, as I 
wanted to get home, I came aboard you ; but I 
never thought of doing you or any of your friends 
harm, if I could help it. How am I to blame 
then ?” 

“Hever listen to his chaff; heave him over 
board, I say,” growled out one of the men. 

“ Thank you all the same, master,” said I, look- 
mg him as boldly as I could in the face, but I’d 
18 * 


160 


SALT WATEB ; OB, 


ratlier stay aboard till I can get put decently on 
shore, and not have to swim there, as you would 
have me do.” 

‘‘ Swim ! By you wouldn’t swim long, I 

expect,” said the ruffian. 

Faith, I’ve no fancy for trying, either,” I an- 
swered. “ If I intended treachery, do you think, 
masters, I should liave put myself in your power 
as I have done, just answer hie that.” 

“ Well, iiQw, I don’t think as how you would,’' 
exclaimed the old skipper. You’re a brave lad, 
anyhow, and deserve a better calling than trying to 
injure poor fellows who are just doing their best to 
make a honest livelihood for their families.” 

“ Well,” said I, seeing the favourable impression 
I was making, “ I’m going soon to be appointed to 
a frigate on a foreign station, so there’s little chance 
of my falling in with you again. If you kill me 
you will be hung, that^s certain, for murder is al- 
ways out some day or other.” 

“ Don’t be coming any of your Irish blarney over 
us,” growled out a sour-looking ruffian. “ If you’re 
a spy, overboard \mu go, tliars all.” 

‘‘ I’m no spy,” I answered, in an indignant tone. 
“ All I ask of you is to put me on shore anywhere 
at the back of the Wight, and I’ll give you my 
word none of you will be the worse for my being 
here.” 

The skipper gave an approving nod as I plead- 
ed for my life. Some of the ruffians seemed to 
give way. 

‘‘Just tell me, then, what harm can a small 
chap like me do you ?” I continued. 

“ How do I know what you’ve got on board, or 
what you’re going to do with it? Be good-natured 
fellows now, and if I can ever do you a good turn 
r will.” 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 151 

‘‘ Oh, come, let the little chap alone ; there’s no 
harm in him, I’m sure !” exclaimed one of the 
smugglers, slapping me on the shoulder. Cheer 
up, my lad, we’ll do you no harm.” 

The others soon came round, and, shaking me 
by the Iiand, declared that I was a brave little 
cock, and they only wished I was one of them. 

A coarse but plentiful dinner was soon after 
wards placed on the deck, the chief part of it ap* 
pearing in a square iron pot, round which we sat 
as merry as crickets ; and there was I, hob-nob- 
bing with a band of smugglers as if we were the 
best friends in the world. 

Towards evening we made the land, no cutter 
being in sight. I had a sovereign and a few shil- 
lings in my pocket, which I oftered the old skip- 
per, but he would receive nothing ; and, as good 
as his word, as soon as it was dark, he ran in and 
put me on shore not far from Shanklin. As there 
was some sea on the beach, all hands got not a 
little wet, but they took it in good part, and wish- 
ed me a hearty good-bye as I set ofl* to clamber up 
the cliffs. I at length found a path which took me 
into the high road ; as soon as I reached it I began 
to make the best of my way towards Hyde. My 
legs ached, but I ran and walked as fast as I could. 
I had not proceeded far when I heard the sound of 
wheels coming along the road. A cart soon over- 
took me. 

“ Is this the road to Eyde ?” I asked. 

“ Yes, it be,” said the driver. “ Be you going 
there ?” 

“ If I can manage to get as far,” I answered. 

“ Well, if you be tired, jump in, and I’ll gie je 
a lift, — ^I be going most of the way,” replied the 
gocd Samaritan. I obeyed with alacrity, and took 
my seat by his side, He was one of the substan- 


152 


SALT water; or, 


tial farmers who abound in the island. I gave him 
an account of my adventures, at which he 'was 
much amused ; nor did he seem to have any great 
an ;ling friends. 



wouldn’t have hurt your 


little lingers,” he remarked, when I told him how 
the crew of the cutter had threatened miy life. He 
would not part from me till he had deposited me 
at the gates of Daisy Cottage. The lights were 
shining through the drawing-room windows. My 
aunt was sitting working, and sweet Alice Marlow 
had a book before her. They both looked very 
sad I thought. I tapped at the window, which 
opened to the ground, to call their attention, and 
grinned a “ How-d’ye-do ?” through the glass. Ho 
sooner did Alice see my face, than letting her 
book fall, she gave a loud scream, as if she had 
seen a spectre. 

“ Hillo ! what’s the matter?” I exclaimed, shak- 
ing the handle of the window. ‘‘ Let me in, aunt, 
please ; I’m not a thief or a ghost, on my word.” 
My aunt, more courageous than the little girl, had 
risen from her seat, and, my voice assuring her of 
my identity, she opened the door, and I very soon 
convinced her and Alice that I was a living being 
by kissing them both, and then devouring every 
scrap of supper she set before me.' I found that 
from Hanks’s report they had been led to believe 
that the Frenchmen had knocked me on the head, 
and were mourning for me accordingly. My aunt 
was, I verily believe, employed in making a black 
gown to put on for my sake. My uncle had sailed 
again to look after the lugger, so that I was able 
to enj Dy the height of a midshipman’s felicity, a 
holiday on shore. Tliree days afterwards the Ser- 
pent came back, having captured the lugger and 
two hundred tubs. I saw Captain Didot, who was 


KEIL D’xVROy’rf LIFE AT SEA. 


153 


7erj angry at finding tluit I had escaped, and 
rowed he would pay me off in a different coin if 
he ever caught me again. I told him he might, if 
he ever did. 


OHAPTEK XII. 


HANKS AND MY GHOST — HANKS’s LEAENING MYEES A GAIN- 

FLIGHT ON SHOEE — CHASE — OEUEL MHEDEE — ESCAPE ONCE 
MOEE — APPOINTED TO A FEIGATE. 

On reaching Portsmouth, I took a boat and 
pulled off to the cutter, which was lying out in the 
middle of the harbour. Hanks was walking the 
deck as I came alongside, but, something having 
attracted his attention in the direction of Gosport, 
he did not observe me. Handing the boatman 
a shilling, I jumped on board unnoticed, and just 
as Hanks turned round I stood before him, with 
my hand out ready to grasp his. For an instant 
the colour forsook his cheeks, and he stared at me 
without speaking, rolling his eyes round as if he 
saw my wraith. 


“ Why, Hanks, old fellow ! don’t you know me?” 
I exclaimed, bursting into a loud laugh at his ex- 
traordinary way of receiving me. voice con- 
vinced him that it was not my ghost which was 
offering to shake hands with him. 

“ What, D’Arcy, my boy ! is it you, indeed, 
come back to us after all ?” he cried, seizing both 
my hands in his own well-hardened paws. Pm 
glad to see you, that I am, lad ; we thought those 
scoundrel smugglers h-ad done for you. it would 
have been just like them, to kill the smallest of the 
* ■ ^ escape? . Come, tell us all 



another brush with that 


164 


SALT water; OB, 


rascal Myers : we are certain it was him. He had 
the daring to fire into ns ; killed one of our people, 
poor Tom Darling, and wounded two, getting ofi 
into the bargain. But we will be even with him 
before long, and when we do catch him, we’ll pay 
liim ofi; tliat’s all. Well, I’m glad you escaped, 
that I am ; but come below, and let us hear the 
whole story.” 

In this way the kind-hearted fellow ran on 
Haying been welcomed by Growl, Scriven, and 
the rest of my shipmates, I went to report myself 
to my uncle, who was in his cabin. He seemed 
truly glad to find that I had not become food for 
fishes, though he did not exhibit his pleasure ex- 
actly in the same way Hanks had done. When I 
was dismissed by him, I dived down into our berth', 
and there, over a glass of his too-favourite bever- 
age, old Hanks listened to an account of my ad- 
ventures. “ It was the Cremona did it, after all ! 
he exclaimed, slapping my shoulder. ‘‘ I told you 
it would stand you in good stead. Stick to it, my 
lad, and you’ll become as great a man as that old 
chap, Orpheus, I’ve heard tell of, who made the 
beasts jig when he fiddled. Who the gentleman 
was, I can’t say, except that he was one of Julius 
Caesar’s generals, wasn’t he ?” 

I must observe that Hanks’s knowledge of his- 
tory, both ancient and modern, was somewhat 
limited and confused ; indeed, he was impressed 
with a notion that Julius Caesar, for whom he had 
a high respect, came over to England somewhere 
in the last century, and having taken possession 
of the country, was in his turn thrashed by William 
the Conqueror. Of all subsequent events till the 
time of Kelson, he professed total ignorance. 

“ All, Kelson was the chap who made the Eng- 
lish 1’' he used to exclaim in triumph ; “ ani as fot 


NEIL d’AECY’S life AT SEA. 


165 


Nap, wlioin they talk so much about, what was he 
to him, I should like to know. A¥hy, the little 
Frenchman couldn’t put a ship about in a steady 
breeze. I’ll warrant ; and, as for handling her in a 
gale, I doubt if he could have done it even if his 
crown depended on it.” 

Hanks had no very great respect for science 
either. 

“What do I care for your algebra and your 
trigonometry?” he one day observed. “I take 
my John Norie and my Gunter’s scale, and I work^ 
out my day’s work as well as any man ; and what 
more should I want to know, tell me? Your 
mathematicians are all humbugs in my opinion, 
and that’s a fact.” 

I mention these little traits in Hanks’s character, 
because I shall now have to bid him farewell for a 
season. He was a worthy fellow, nevertheless ; 
not without sense of a practical sort ; a Serious 
specimen of a school now rapidly becoming obso- 
lete. 

Soon after this we were once more oh our old 
cruising-ground, to the westward, hoping to fall in 
again with our frien'd Myers. We had been a 
week or more knocking about, and had begun to 
fear that he had again escaped us, when it came 
on to blow very hard from the south-west. My 
uncle was not a man to be frightened by a capfull 
of wind ; so, setting our storm-sails, we stood off 
shore, and faced the gale like men ; for this was 
just the weather smugglers would choose to run ^ 
across Channel, w^hen they think no one will be on 
the look-out for them. Towards evening, how- ^ 
ever, it came on to blow harder than before, so ' 
that at last we were obliged to up-helm and run 
for shelter into harbour ; but just as we were bear- 
ing up, a sea struck the cutter, carried away our 


166 


SALT watek; OB, 


stem-boat, and stove in one of those on our 
quarter. In this squall the wind seemed to have 
worn itself out ; for before we had made the land 
it suddenly fell, and by daylight a dead calm came 
on, followed by a dense fog. Our soundings told 
us that w^e were within a short distance of the 
coast, so that our eyes were busily employed in 
trying to get through the mist a sight of it, or of 
any strange sail which might be in the neighbour- 
hood. At last, for an instant, the fog lifted towards 
the north, showing us, close in with the land, the 
white sails of a lugger, on which, as she rose and 
fell on the heavy swell remaining after the storm 
of the previous night, were now glancing tlie 
bright beams of the morning sun. Before we 
could bring our glasses to bear, the fog again 
closed in ; but every eye was turned in that direc- 
tion t^et another sight of her, we hoping, from 
our mlwtion, to have been hid from her view. 

“what do you tlnnk, Jones; which way shall 
we have the breeze wjien it does come?” asked 
my uncle’ of the old quartermaster, who was the 
oracle on such occasions. 

“ Why, sir, I should say off the land ; it looks 
clearer there aw^ay than it does out here.” 

As the old man delivered himself of this opinion, 
he turned his one open eye towards the point he 
indicated ; for, though he had two orbs — and they 
were piercers — he never used more than one at a 
time, — used to fancy to give each alternately- a 
rest. As he spoke, the fog once more lifted a 
little. 

^ “ And what do you say to yonder craft ?” con- 
tinued the skipper. 

The old mams right eye surveyed her intently 
before he answered. 

“ I thought I knowed her, sir. As sure as we’re 


KKIL u’aHCY’s life AT SEA. 


157 


alive sLe’s the Kitty ^ with that villain Bill Myers 
aboard.” 

How he arrived at the latter conclusion no one 
stopped to consider. The words had an electric 
effect among all hands. 

“ You are right, Jones, you are right,” exclaimed 
our Commander ; then, in a tone of vexation, “ and 
we have only one boat to chase her. If there comes 
a breeze, that fellow will sneak along shore and 
again slip through our fingers. He calculated 
on his chances when he remained there, and no 
doubt has information that the revenue boats of the 
next station are sent out of the way.” 

Every glass was now turned in the direction 
where the smuggler was last seen. It must be un- 
derstood that the mist again quickly hid her from 
us. My uncle walked over to where. the carpenter 
was employed in putting the boat to rig^s, but 
he soon saw that there was a good day’s ^w‘k .or 
more before she could be made to swim. 

‘‘ It will never do to let tnat fellow escape us,” 
he exclaimed, briskly. “Mr. Hanks, pipe the gig’s 
crew away, with two extra hands, all fully armed. 
Do you take command, and try and get alongside 
and capture him, alive or dead. If a breeze springs 
u[), I will be after the lugger.” 

My uncle had hurt his arm, and could scarcely 
help himself into the boat, much less handle a cut- 
lass, or he would have been the last man to send 
another on a hazardous expedition when he might 
have gone himself. Hanks having repeated his 
orders, dived down below, and quickly returned 
with his cocked-hat on, and his sword by his side 
I caught my uncle’s eye. 

“ May I go, sir ?” I asked. He looked at me foi 
a moment. 

“ Why, Neil^ my boy, you seem to bear a charm 

u 


158 


SALT water; or, 


ed life ; and as you weigli little, and can handle a 
cutlass, I won’t baulk your ardour ; you may go.” 

The boat was quickly ready, the order was given 
to shove off, and away we pulled with hearty 
strokes in the direction of the lugger. I asked 
Hanks why he wore his cocked-hat on this occasion. 

“ Because, my boy, I like to look like an officer,” 
he answered. ‘‘Then, do you see, those fellows 
don’t fight half as well when they know that they 
are opposing their superiors. How, give way, my 
lads, and silence fore and aft, or our voices may 
chance to reach the lugger.” 

The fog for some time favoured our approach 
towards the spot where we guessed the smuggler 
was to be found, for we could no more see her than 
his people could see us. Hever, when roasting in 
the tropics, under a burning sun, have I wished 
more^arnestly for a breeze, than we now did that 
tlij^ clRn would continue till we could get alongside 
the long-looked-for craft. Hot a word was spoken, 
though we knew the splash of our oars in the water 
would soon betray our approach to the sharpened 
ears of the smugglers, even before they could see 
us. We redoubled, therefore, our efi'orts to get 
alongside, when a light air coming off the land, 
much thinned the intervening mist, showing us the 
Kitty^ with her largest canvas spread to catch the 
breeze. As she loomed through the fog, she ap- 
peared twice her real size. We had no doubt that 
her people must have discovered us. In a moment 
her sails were trimmed, her long sweeps were run 
out, and she was moving through the tvater, though 
not so fast as we were pulling. 

“ Give way, my boys, give way !” shouted 
Hanks, all necessity for silence being now re 
moved. “ Give way, and the lugger is ours.” 

With a hearty clteer the men &nt to their oars 


NEIL d’ABCY’S life AT SEA. 


159 


and sent the boat flying through the calm blue 
water, casting aside the light sparkling spray which 
bubbled and hissed round her bows, and left a long 
line of foam in her wake. The breeze freshened 
most provokingly before long, and we found that, 
though still decreasing our distance from the lug- 
ger, we were not gaining on her as fast as when 
she first made us out. We had, however, goT 
within a quarter of a mile of her, when we saw a 
man jump on the tafirail, and wave his hat at us, 
as if in derision. Even at that distance, some of 
our people declared that he was Bill Myers, whom 
all of us knew well enough by sight. The next 
.instant, a skiff was launched from her decks, into 
which he jumped, and pulled as hard as he could 
toward the shore, to which he was already nearer 
than we were to him. Here was a dilemma for us. 
If we followed the outlaw, his lugger would very 
likely get away, and if we made chase after her, 
he would certainly escape, and she probably^ even 
if we came up with her, would not be condemned. 
Undoubtedly Myers himself was the most import- 
ant object; so Hanks decided, and in a moment 
the boat’s head was turned towards the shore, in 
chase of thq skiff. Away we went as fast as six 
ash oars in stout hands could send us through the 
water, while Myers, still undaunted, continued his 
course ; yet, in spite of his audacity, he well knew 
it was with him a matter of life and death. It was 
astonishing, when putting forth all his vast strength, 
how fast he sent along his light skiff ; indeed, we 
gained but slightly on him in our six-oared galley, 
and we soon saw that he would reach the shore 
before we could overtake him. 

“ Give way, my lads, give way !” shouted 
Hanks, though the men were straining every nerve 


160 salt water; or, 

to the utmost. “ Give way, and we shall soon be 
up with him.” 

Talk of the excitement of a stag-hunt ! it is tame 
in comparison to the interest men take in the chase 
of a fellow-creature. There is something of the 
nature of the bloodhound, I suspect, in our com- 
position, which delights in the pursuit of such 
noble game. few minutes more decided the 
point ; a cry of vexation escaping us as his boat 
touched the sliore, and, coolly drawing her .up on 
the strand, he was seen to make towards the woods. 

Shall I bring him dowm, sir !” asked the sea- 
man who sat in the stern-sheets, with a musket, 
marine-fashion, between his knees. 

“ jS; 0, no,” said Hanks ; “ we must take the fel- 
low alive. He cannot escape us if we put our best 
feet foremost.” 

Just as the boat’s keel grated on the sand, Myers 
disappeared among the rocks and trees, and w’e 
could hear a shout of derisive laughter ringing 
through the wood. 

“ After him, my boys, after him !” shouted 
Hanks, as we all leaped on shore. “ A new guinea 
for the man who first gets hold of him.” And, 
except a lad wlio was left in charge of the boat, 
away we all went, helter-skelter, in the direction 
the outlaw had taken. He made, it appeared, 
straight inland, for we could hear his shouts ahead 
of us as we rushed on, hallooing to each other 
from among the trees. Hot one of the party 
seemed inclined to get before the other, not so 
much that one was unwilling to deprive the other 
of the promised reward, but, I suspect, that no one 
was anxious to encounter Myers single-handed, 
well-armed and desperate as we knew him to be. 
Hanks, being somewhat short-winded, was soon 
left far behind, though, as he hurried on under the 


NEIL , d’AECY’s life AT SEA. 


161 


■w 'eight of his cocked-hat, puffiug and blowing with 
all his might, his voice, as long as we could hear 
him, enconraged ns in the pursuit. We had thus 
made good half a mile or more, when, coming sud- 
denly on the confines of a wood, or coppice it might 
rather be called, a wide extent of open ground ap- 
peared before us, but not a trace of the fugitive 
could be perceived. Some of the foremost ran on 
to a spot of high ground near at hand, whence 
they could see in every direction ; but not a figure 
was moving in the landscape. In the mean time 
Hanks came up, and ordered us to turn back and 
beat about tlie wood. We had been thus fruit- 
lessly engaged for some time, when we were re- 
called to the shore by a shout from one of our peo- 
ple, and hastening down to the beach, we beheld, 
to our dismay, our own boat floating some way out 
in the bay, while Myers in his skiff w^s pulling 
towards his lugger, now creeping along shore out 
of reach of the cutter, which still lay becalmed in 
the offing. What was most extraordinary, the lad 
who had been left in charge of the boat was 
nowhere to be seen, and, as far as we could make 
out, he was neither in his nor in Myers’s skiff. 
Some misgivings as to his fate, I remember, at the 
time came over my mind, but I said nothing. Hot 
slight, indeed, was our rage and disappointment ; 
and poor Hanks was almost beside himself with 
vexation. After we had stood for a moment look- 
ing with blank astonishment at each other, he or- 
dered us, in a sharp voice, some to run one way 
and some anothei’, along the shore in search of a 
boat, by which we mi^ht get on board our galley, 
for she was too far off for any one to attempt to 
swim to her. At last we discovered, hauled up on 
the beach, a heavy fishing-boat, wliich with some 
work we managed to launch, and — by means of 
u* 


162 


SALT VVATEli; OK, 


the bottom-boards and a few pieces of plank 
found in her — to paddle towards our gig. ^ In onr 
course we picked up two of our oars, which had 
been thrown overboard, and we were thus able to 
reach her sooner- than we could otherwise have 
done. What could have become of our young 
shipmate ? we asked of each other, but not a con- 
jecture was oifered. Myers could not have car- 
ried him olf ; he would not have ventured to have 
injured him, and the lad was not likely to have de- 
serted his post. At last we got alongside the gig, 
and all hands looked into her, to learn what had 
become of our young shipmate. There lay the 
poor youth at the bottom of the boat, shot through 
the body by the remorseless villain, Myers. We 
lifted him up, but he had ceased to breathe. 

“ The cruel, mm’derous scoundrel shall pay dearly 
for this day’s work,” said the kind-hearted Hanks. 
“We may catch him yet, my boys, and avenge 
this poor lad ; so after him again.” 

Placing the murdered youth in the fishing-boat, 
and anchoring her, to wait our return, with a 
hearty good will the crew seized their oars, and 
were again in full chase of the smuggler. By this 
time, however, a fresh breeze had come on the 
land, which filled the sails of the lugger just as 
Myers sprang from his boat upon her deck, and 
before a breath of air had reached the cutter, he 
had run her out of sight, winding his way among 
a succession of reefs, where few seamen would 
ha\e willingly ventured. Seeing there was no 
chance of overtaking him in the gig, we pulled on 
board the cutter, and as soon as the uncertain air 
gave her way through the water, Ave made chase 
in the direction we calculated tfie Kitty would 
take. 

For two days we cruised up and down over the 


NEIL I)’ A ROY’S LIFE AT SEA. 


163 


givund where we thought we might fall in with 
her, hut without avail ; and we then returned to 
bury our shipmate, and restore his boat to the 
hsherman, who, finding a dead man aboard had 
been afraid to take her. Two other cruisers were 
sent down to assist us in our search after Myei's ; 
but though for several weeks we kept a sharp look- 
out after him, he managed to escape us, and neither 
he nor the Kitty was again heard of on that coast. 
I was destined, however, to fall in with him again 
in another chme. 

We were not sorry to get back to Portsmouth 
after all this knocking about. The first person I 
met on going on shore was Larry Harrigan. He 
had seen the cutter coming in, and had hurried 
down to the point to meet me. 

“ Oh, Master Heil, Pve good news for you,” he 
exclaimed, as I jumped out of the boat and found 
myself in his arms, for he still looked on me as the 
baby he had so carefully watched over. ‘‘You are 
na longer to be kept in that tub-hunting service, 
saving his honor your uncle’s pardon ; but you are 
to go to sea in reality, in a fine, smart frigate, 
which won’t be letting the grass grow under hei 
keel, ril warrant.” 

“That’s good new^s, indeed, Larry; where did 
you learn it?” I asked. 

“ From no less a man than the Captain himself, 
and that’s good authority, you’ll allow,” he an- 
swered in a tone of no little satisfaction. “ He’s a 
friend of your honoured grandfather’s, and was a mid 
shipman and lieutenant on board two ships I served 
in. H6 has been lodging in my house for some 
mouths back; and when lie heard who you were 
and who had brought you up and given you youi 
sea-learning, says he, ‘ Larry, you’ve made a sea- 
man of him, that I’ll answer for. The lad shall go 


164 


SALT WATER; OR, 


along with me when I get a ship, for his ^and 
lather’s sake and yours too, old friend.’ Those 
were his last words, Master IS'eil ; they were, in- 
deed; and he’s kept his promise, as 1 knew he 
would.” 

This very satisfactory information Larry com- 
municated on our way to Southsea. It was con- 
hrmed soon afterwards by my uncle, who followed 
me up to Larry’s house. Lie, as I suspected, had 
also made an application in my favour, and had 
just received a letter from Captain Poynder — 
which was, I found, my future commandei’’s name 
— desiring me forthwith to join his ship, the Tlarolcl^ 
which was, however, still in the hands of the dock- 
yard people. Though I would rather have gone 
afloat at once, this was, I found, a great advantage, 
as I had thus an opportunity of seeing her masted, 
rigged, and fitted for sea. Officers are often glad 
to shirk this, for it is far from pleasant work, and 
Portsmouth is not the most delectable of resi- 
dences. I should advise all midshipmen not to 
miss an opportunity of seeing a ship fitted out, if 
they possibly can. They will find it will save them 
an immense deal of after- trouble, and prove the 
quickest way of gaining a knowlege of their future 
home. Meantime, Larry was as busy as a bee in 
getting my kit in order, aided by his better half ; 
and few midshipmen ever obtained so good an in- 
sight at so cheap a rate. I got leave to run over 
to Pyde for a couple of days to wish my aunt and 
voung cousins good-bye. I asked after Alice Mar- 
low. I was in hopes of hearing that she was com- 
ing back to Pyde, that I mi^ht see her before I 
sailed. I blushed as I mentioned her name, and 
had a curious palpitation about the region of the 
heart. My aunt smiled as she replied — “I am 
afraid, Heil, that I shall not be able to get my 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 165 

young friend to come here again forja long time. 
Mr. Marlow writes me word that he proposes going 
abroad and taking lier with him. But cheer up ; 
she will return here some day, I hope ; and when 
you come back from one of your voyages you will 
find her with us, perhaps. I should be, indeed, 
rerj sorry if I did not expect to see the dear little 
girl again.’^ 

My aunt was the kindest creature alive ; and I 
was very certain that she regretted that Alice was 
not there to bid me farewell. I wished her and 
my cousins good-bye. They all cried a little ; and 
so, in truth, did I, for they were the only creatures 
I had to love in the world. I, however, quite re- 
covered my spirits before I got half way across to 
Portsmcfuth. My unci e came several times on board 
the frigate, and, had I been his own son, he could 
not have taken more interest in me than he did. 
As for Larry Harrigan, he was on board every day, 
and all day long, following me about to show me 
how every thing was done, and why it was done. 
The first lieutenant was a very worthy, kind man ; 
and as soon as he had heard Larry’s history, he 
used to talk to him and encourage him to come on 
board. Greatly to Larry’s- delight, he gave me 
leave to spend an evening sometimes at his house, 
and very pleasant evenings they were. The officers 
now began to join fast. Lieutenants, mates, and 
midshipmen were every day arriving. AV^e soon 
had our full complement of men, and having got 
clear of the Dockyard people, were ready to go 
out to Spithead. 


•V 


166 


SALT water: or, 


CHAPTER XIIL 

PREPARE FOE SEA — MY OLD SHIPMATES — HOW TUB HAROLr- 

WAS BUILT — SAIL FROM ENGLAND — MESSRS. TRUNDLE AND 

CHI6SEL DIOKY SHARPE AND A TALE OF A BEEF-BONE. 

I WAS now to turn over a new page in the his 
toiy of my career. Although I had gained a 
considerable amount of nautical knowledge, my 
experience of 'life was somewhat limited; but 
henceforth it was to be enlarged and extended, I 
trusted, over the greater part of the surface of the 
globe. For the present, the lands of the myrtle 
and vine were to be our destination — the shores 
of the Mediterranean ; and the man must, indeed, 
be difficult to satisfy who is not pleased with their 
varied and glowing beauties. Our gallant ship ; 
our berth, so long our home ; mxy messmates, as 
well as our superior officers and men, merit de- 
scription. I will touch on each of them in their 
turn. First, I will speak of our berth, which was, 
in truth, somewhat different to the abodes of the 
naval heroes of Great Britain of the rank of mid- 
shipmen, with which the public are familiar. Few, 
perhaps, are like it ; though, after we had been a year 
or two at sea, it had sadly been shorn of its glory, 
its brilliancy had departed, and its polisli was no 
more. We happened to have a caterer, who liked 
to have every thing very natty about him, and 
who had accordingly taken on himself to spend a 
few pounds in having our berth neatly done up. 
Tile bulkheads were painted of a salmon colour ; 
there was a gilt and bxue moulding ; a neat oil- 
cloth over the table and lockers, and at one end a 
buffet filled with plated dish-covers and dishes, 


NETL iV Alley’s LIFE AT SEA. 


167 


tumblers and wineg-lasses, forks and spoons, and 
China teacups ; while two swing-lamps hung from 
the deck above. It afforded a contrast, certainly, 
to the tinier of the old school, when a purser’s dip 
was stuck in a black bottle, and battered tin cups 
served alternately for grog, and tea, and soup ; but 
though the language of the occupants of om- berth 
was somewhat more refined, and our opinions more 
liberal, I will venture to say that the spirit to will 
and to do deeds of daring burnt not the less 
brightly in our bosoms than in those of midship- 
men of former times. While I was at Hyde the 
ship’s company moved out of the old Tojpaze^ 
alongside of which we were lashed, into the frig 
ate, and the day after several mates and mid- 
shipmen, with somewhat aristocratic pretensions, 
joined us. I got a hint, when I came back from 
Ryde, that they were rather inclined to look down 
upon me as having been a cutter’s midshipman. 

They .shan’t cut me, at all events,” said I to 
' ’’’ t on board I went below, 



Hanks had given me, I 


sat myself down on my chest, and began playing 
away with all my might a merry Irish jig. 

“Hillo; who is the jolly fellow out there?” 
asked one of the new mates from the berth. 

“ Oh, that’s the Irish midshipman, D’Arcy,’ 
answered Onslow, a mate who had sometime 
■joined. Give us another tune, Paddy, that’s a 
good boy.” 

On this I forthwith struck up ‘‘ St. Patrick's 
Day in the Morning,” and half-a-dozen other Irish 

aii’s. 

“ If no one objects. I’ll sing, too, mates,” said I, 
when I had played out my tunes. 

Without waiting for an answer, I locked up my 
fiddle, and, taking my seat at one end of the bei tn. 




SALT WATETt ; OR, 


1 trolled out, with a very fair voice, several songa 
which used to delight old Hanks and mj other 
shipmates in the cutter. The effect was evidently 
good. I showed my wish to please ; and though 
afterwards a few attempts were made to snub me, 
1 took them all in good humour, as if they were 
intended as jokes, and finally established myself 
as a favourite with the mess, and I may, I believe, 
honestly say, with nearly every body on board. 

As soon as possible we went out to Spithead,- 
and joined a large squadron under command of 
Sir reppery Potfire. We mustered altogether 
some eighteen sail of vessels or more, and a very 
warlike appearance we made. We were bound, 
we knew, for the Mediterranean, and we all looked 
forward with no little satisfaction to our visit to 
that most favourite of stations. 

Our powder was next taken on board, with a 
further supply of stores, and more midshipmen. 
Among the latter, w^ho should climb up the side 
but my quondam friend Dicky Sharpe. He did 
not see me, as I was aloft at the time, and before 
I came on deck, he and his traps had gone be- 
low. When my watch on deck was over, I de- 
scended to our berth, where I found him busily 
employed in cramming his new messmates, and 
endeavouring to raise himself to a high position in 
their estimation. 

“ You see, my good fellows, it isn’t every body 
has got a minister for a cousin, and a Lord of 
the Admiralty for an uncle,” he remarked, in a 
consequential • tone, as I got to the door of the 
berth. ^ 

“ And 1 don’t think you have either, Dicky, my 
boy,” said I, laughing. “ But I’m very glad to see 
yoxiy notwithstanding ; but don’t be after bambooz 
•ing us jolly greens now.” 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 169 

At first he attempted to look very indignant at 
the attack made on his veracity ; but no sooner 
did lie recognize me than his good feelings got the 
better of his love of trying to make himself of im- 
portance, and jumping up, he seized my liand and 
wrm^ it warmly. 

“ Why, D’ Arcy, is it you yourself, indeed ?” he 
exclaimed ; I am delighted to find you here, I 
am, indeed. Why, messmates, if it had’nt been 
for D’Arcy I should have been food for fishes ; I 
sliould, on my word. Think what a loss tlie ser- 
vice would have had.” 

A loud laugh from all hands followed this re- 
mark, though, I verily believe, Dicky spoke in all 
gravity ; but the fact that I had been the means of 
saving his life thus came out. It raised me, I had 
afterwards reason to know, in the good opinion of 
all on board, and Dicky himself gained many 
friends by the feeling way in which he spoke of it. 
I was very soon seated alongside him in the berth, 
and our tongues were rattling away as fast as they 
could wag. 

Dicky’s propensity to brag, amusing as it was 
to others, 'was continually getting him into scrapes. 
We had an old mate, Adam Stalman by name, 
who was proportionably as tall, grave, and silent, 
as Dicky was little, merrj^, and loquacious. 

One day, Dicky having thrown a biscuit at me, 
which, unfortunately, hit Adam’s nose, the latter 
looked at him sternly. • 

“Sharpe, you are small,” he exclaimed; “but 
cobbing was invented to make midshipmen gi-ow 
and I intend to make you grow.” 

“Then, faith, Stalman, I suspect your m.jthei 
began cobbing you as soon as you were born,’' 
answered the undaunted Dicky. 

Adam’s hands had been busy under the table 

u 


170 


SALT water; or, 


with ]iis handkerchief ; now, suddenly leaning for 
ward, he grasped Dicky by the crop of the neck, 
and, before he had time to expostulate, he had him 
in such a position that he could apply with the 
greatest effect the instrument of torture he had man- 
ufactured. As all the oldsters sided with Adam, 
the youngsters dared not interfere, and poor Dicky 
was held in that undignified position while other 
handkerchiefs w^ere knotted, and, before he was cast 
loose, he received a cobbing which made him treat, 
ever afterwards, all the oldsters with abundant 
respect. But Dicky, if he did not forget, did what 
was as wise, he forgave, and I do not think he nour-^ 
ished the slightest ill-will against his cobbers. 

I must drop a word or two to the memory of some 
of my old messmates, now scattered far and wide ; 
some of them, alas! gone to their last account; 
others, their fate yet wrapped in mystery. 

There was Carleton, refined and gentlemanly, a 
linguist and a scholar; a first-rate actor, he could 
portray to the life the native of any nation whose 
tongue he spoke. The eastern seas can alone tell 
what became of him. 

Then there was poor Falconer who, long after, 
disappeared with the ill-fated President. W ho can 
forget his jovial songs, his jokes and quirks, merry 
and kindhearted, out of spirits never? his early 
doom cast no shadow in his path. 

And then the brave, the talented, the ingenious 
Fitz Hugh. Oh, may your manly voice answer 
me from the icy realms of the far distant north 1 
^ n - dl-loved old messmate that you 



return with your brave com- 


panions to gladden the hearts of your long-ex- 
pectant friends. Yes, you will. You will add 
another illustrious example of the indomitable 
valour and endurance of British seamen. You will 


NEIL d’aRCY’S life AT SEA. 171 

show that yet unheard-of difficulties could not con 
quer them ; and that hope of return deferred foi 
long, long years could not break their spirits ; that 
authority was maintained, and obedience rendered, 
in the face of death, starvation, and terrors sufficient 
to make other hearts but theirs quail and sink con- 
founded. Yes, noble friend ! we shall meet again. 

And Stanfield, too ; grave, and unhappy, and 
troubled wdth thoughts which, for a time, almost 
unfitted him for active life, and made him rebel 
against Providence, till, won by a wise adviser to 
seek for aid from above, and to see the plan of life 
through a brighter medium ; yet never, even in his 
least happy mood, w^as he unkind to others, nor 
indifferent to their welfare. At length he left the 
service, and took up his abode in a distant colony. 
But one day a ship of war came in ; he went on 
board — many old shipmates were there ; she w^as 
short of officers — he volunteered. He was soon 
rigged out, and, without even once again setting 
foot on shore, he left his sometime home and prop- 
erty forever. But I must not anticipate. Those 
I have mentioned were some of the brighter spirits 
on board. Of these, with other more ordinary 
characters, consisted the members of our mess. 

Of Captain Poynder I have spoken. He was a 
worthy man and a good officer ; and if he had a 
fault, it was, not being sufficiently strict. 

Then comes Johnny Du Pre, our gallant First. 
I have still an afiectionate regard for Johnny, 
though many an hour have I spent at our mast- 
head at his instigation, while Dickv, promoted by 
the like authority, was taking sights at me from 
another. We were sent there not without cause I 
own, and still the amount of moral turpitude which 
gained us that elevated distinction was not such as 
to make me blush as I think of it, or to make me 


172 


SALT 'w^ater; or, 


anxious to conceal it from the public. IS’eitlier aa 
a first lieutenant nor as a man was Lieutenant Du 
Pre perfect ; but who is there with whom one can- 
not find a fault? he was kind-hearted, a fair sea- 
man, and anxious io do his duty. 

But our second lieutenant, Basil Vernon, was 
still more worthy of notice. Defined and elegant 
both in person and manners, he appeared, at first 
sight, to be what is called a fine gentleman ; but 
A:ind-hearted, brave, and generous almost to a fault, 
a first-rate seaman and officer, a better fellow never 
^jtcpped, nor one more beloved by all classes afloat, 
AB well as by all who knew him on shore. I soon 
became very much attached to him, and would 
have gone round the world to do him a service. 
Many times did lie save me from punishment when 
I especially deserved it. He was, indeed, very far 
from being one of those fine fellows whom no or- 
dinary mortals can approach, for he had a heart 
tender as a woman’s, and he would as readily sym- 
pathize with the grief of the smallest middy, as 
with the sorrow or sufiering of the roughest tar on 
board. He was a sincere Christian, too ; and, what 
was more, was not ashamed of his Christianity. 
He exhibited his principles in his practice — in the 
daily duties of life — ^till he taught the most profane 
and profligate to respect him, if not to adopt them. 
I wish there were more B^zil Vernons in the ser- 
vice. Thank Heaven ! there are some shining 
lights to lighten us in our darkness — ^leaven, which 
gradually, though slowly, may, by God’s provi- 
dence, leaven the whole mass. 

Our third lieutenant, Hugh Summers, wrote 
})oetry, talked sentiment, and dreamed dreams, and 
required a flajiper to remind him when to put the 
ship about at times ; but, whejr once aroused iutQ 


KEIL d’arGY’s life AT SEA l7h 

action, lie was as energetic as any one, and had 
plenty of resources on an emergency. 

The master, surgeon, and purser, were also very 
good fellows in their way, and, if not shining orna- 
ments, were no disgrace to his Majesty’s service. 

And now I must speak of the ship which was to 
be our future home ; the dear old barkie ! which 
we trusted would bear us safely over the wild 
ocean, through sunshine and storm for many a long 
league. If 1 had wished to find fault with her, not 
a person would be bound to defend her ; for, in 
truth she was built by no one in particular, which 
may in part account for her being as beautiful, fine, 
and fast-sailing a frigate as any in the service. She 
was originally laid down as a bomb-vessel, and 
part of her timbers were set up, when orders were 
received to discontinue her. After a lapse of some 
years, my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty 
took it into their heads that she should be shaped 
into a thirty -six gun frigate ; but after a time, when 
some progress had been made, they again were 
seized with an economical fit, and the workmen 
were taken oflf her. Eventually they, or their suc- 
cessors, again changed their minds, and she was 
ordered to be built upon lines submitted by Mr. 
Transom, a builder who understood his craft better 
than humbug, and who, having no one to interfere 
with him, ran her up with the refuse wood of other 

ships from the dockyard, workmen being 

put on to her only when there happened to be no 
work for them elsewhere. The result was, that 
this little-cared-for, patchwork craft turned out a 
most comfortable, roomy, excellent sea-boat, as 
•superior as possible to half the frigates in the ser- 
vice — ^ran very fast, scarcely rolled a bit, and had 
always dry decks ; indeed, for the many years I 
belonged to her, off and on, in all parts of the 


174 


SALT WATEE ; OE, 


world — in war and in peace, in storm and calm-— 
she proved a most efficient and handy ship, and in 
every way comfortable ; and I will add, too, that 
all hands were happy as the days were long ; and 
tliat a smarter or a better-handled vessel never 
came near ns. What more could I say ? We used 
shrewdly to suspect that old Transom knew per- 
fectlv well what he was about when he was build- 
ing lier, and that, though uncared-for by othei*s, 
she was secretly a favoitrite of his. I know he 
gave our skipper a hint to try and get command 
of her, telling him he would not repent it if he 
did. 

At last the pay-clerks came on board, and paid 
the ship’s company. A tine, bright morning saw 
the signal flying from the admiral’s ship for the 
fleet to weigh and work out to St. Helen’s. There 
was a nice working breeze, a blue sky, and the 
water just rippled enough to reflect with more daz- 
zling splendour the rays of the glorious sun, as he 
shed them along the path we were to pursue. It 
was, in truth, a beautiful sight ; and, considering 
the number of ships — some eighteen sail or more, 
all beating out together within so narrow a channel 
— ^it was surprising that much damage was not 
done, especially when it is remembered that the 
crews of half the ships had never been to sea be- 
fore, and that the ropes were stifl‘ and new, and did 
not work well. One ship, I believe, carried away 
her flying jib-boom against the stern of another ; 
and with that slight loss, a small expenditure of 
abuse from the respective crews, who thought each 
other to blame, we reached St. Helen’s. We, on 
opening the high land of the east end of the Wight, 
found the wind much stronger ; and in swinging 
the mainyard in stays, at the very last tack, just aa 
vve were about to bring up, a gunner’s mate. Bill 


KEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


1T5 


Tomkins, bad to let go the main bowline. What 
^- 50 or Bill was thinking of I do not know. He had 
been drunk, I fear, the night before, and had not 
his wits about him, for he clapped his leg into a 
coil of the mainbrace. As the wind filled tlie sail, 
out flew the rope like lightning, and with a groan 
of a^onj the poor fellow was thrown on the deck. 

--I, with others, ran to see what was the matter 
The rope had whipped ofl* his foot above the anklo 
almost as completely as if it had been .cut with 
a knife. I had seen men wounded by shot, but 
the sight made me feel very queer; and Dicky 
Sharpe, who it appeared had never before seen, 
blood spilt, turned so pale that when the surgeon 
came up he fancied that he had been hurt, and 
was going to order him to be taken to his ham- 
mock. Dickey had to assure him on his word that 
there was nothing the matter with him, before he 
would believe him. Poor Tomkins was carried 
below, and the medico soon made a finish of the 
work the mainbrace had begun, by taking his leg 
off below the knee. He waa then put into a boat 
and carried ashore that very evening, to finish his 
cure at Haslar Hospital. The next day we were 
fairly off to sea ; the fleet formed in two lines, the 
White and the Blue squadrons, which Sir Peppery 
manoeuvered with much skill, to the no small 
trouble of the signal midshipmen. The second 
day Hed Lenny, the young gentleman on board 
the Harold who held that office, vowed he must 
leave the service and go into the Dragoons, if it 
was to be carried on in that way, though the fol 
lowing morning he thought better of it. He gained, 
however, the sovhriquet of the Heavy, which, as he 
was a cocksparrow of a fellow, he retained ever 
afterwards. Captain Poynder was not inclined to 
»ave either officers or crew ..till we got into good 



SALT WATER, OR, 

order, which we accordingly did our best to ac- 
complish. At length, when cruising ofi' the Lizard, 
with a strong breeze from the south-west and a 
heavy sea, we found that our rudder had a great 
deal too much play, and that the ship would not 
readily answer the helm. The carpenter was there- 
fore sent down to examine what was the matter, 
and reported that the head of the rudder was 
prung. Having signalled the circumstance to the 
admiral, he ordered us to Plymouth. As soon as 
we got there, our rudder was unshipped and sent 
to the dockyard ; but the officers of tlie said yard, 
whose business it was to survey it, could discover 
nothing the matter with it. They were on the 
point of sending it back, when Chissel, our car- 
penter, arrived. 

“ ril stake my reputation, gentlemen, there’s 
something wrong, or that ’ere rudder would have 
worked properly,” he remarked, with becoming 
gravity; “just take the hoops off the head, and 
let’s see.” 

It was done, and a slight shove pushed the head 
off the rudder. 

“ Humph ! a pretty way to send a ship to sea, 
with a rotten head to her rudder,” he remarked ; 
“ suppose we’d been lost, whose fault would it have 
been 

We soon had a new rudder shipped, and were 
once. more off to join the squadron. After cruis- 
ing for six weeks, we were ordered to Spithead to 
complete our provisions, water, and stores ; and 
then, having taken some passengers on board, 
made all sail for our station in the Mediterranean. 

We had not been long at sea when Dicky and I, 
wearying of the daily routine of duty, began to 
play pranks which were calculated to bring us into 
trouble, The boatswain, who rejoiced in the name 


NEIL D'ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


177 


of Tiinotheus Trundle, was one of the most extra- 
ordinary of his class, though not a had boatswain 
for all that. His appearance in foul weather was 
that of a short lump of big coats and trousers, 
with a small red pumpkin growing out of them. 
On a nearer approach, one discovered in the said 
pumpkin a pair of red, ferrety eyes, an excrescence 
for a nose, and a hole into which his whistle fitted 
for a mouth, and on either side of it, on a Sunday 
morning, two very high shirt-collars, they towards 
the end of the week gaining a darker hue and an 
outwai’d curve. On the top of the pumpkin was a 
round Spanish hat, the flutf of the catskin which 
composed it being long enough to make a dozen 
beavers. He wore, with considerable pride, round 
his neck a handsome silver call and chain. But 
with all his oddities, his enemies — and he had a 
few — were obliged to confess that he knew' and did 
his duty as well as any man in the ship. Among 
his other qualifications, he was a bit of a sea- 
lawyer ; not of the cantankerous sort, however, for 
it might be more justly said that he preferred sit- 
ting on the judicial bench, and he was ever ready 
to settle all disputes either by arbitration or the 
rope’s end ; indeed, in most cases he had recourse 
to the latter, as being the most summary mode of 
proceeding. When his duty did not require his 
presence on his own territory, the forecastle, he 
was fond of taking a walk on the main-deck, along- 
side the carpenter^s bench, for he was of a social dis- 
position, and delighted in what he called “rasli- 
wal” conversation. 

How, Ichabod Chissel, our carpenter, was an- 
jther of those heroes of the tongue, who pretend to 
know every thing, and never fan in a story for want 
of a little invention. By his own crew, who looked 
up to him and esteemed him for his sterling quali 


12 



178 


SALT water; or, 


ties, he was considered a first-rate politician. The 
two officers were tolerably good friends in general ; 
but a very slight thing would make them fall out, 
though they as speedily patched up their quarrels 
again. 

One day there was a light breeze and a smooth 
sea, and Trundle, not expecting to be wanted, had 
repaired to the main-deck, where Chissel was su 
perintending his crew at work. Dicky Sharpe and 
I happened to be near, and observing that they 
were both more than usually excited, we drew 
closer to see the fun going forward. 

“Well, that was a storm as fierce as ever I did 
see,” remarked Chissel. “ Why, there was a thun- 
dej-bolt as big as six of my fists put together, fell 
right through the decks, and out through the ships’ 
bottom ; and if I hadn’t been there to plug the 
hole, we should all have gone to Davy Jones’s 
locker, as sure as fate. You was there. Trundle, 
and you know, old ship, that I speak true.” 

“ I was there ! Yes ; but I know you speak a 
hanged lie, if you say that,” exclaimed Trundle. 

“What’s that you say?” shouted Chissel, highly 
indignant at being told he lied before all his crew, 
though he doubtless would have cared very little 
about the matter, had the polite remark been made 
when the two were alone. 

Just then Mr. Summers, who was the officer of 
the watch, sung out — “ Hands about ship ! Where’s 
the boatswain ?” 

“Hever in his station,” observed Chissel, as 
Trundle, call in mouth, was making his way for- 
ward. “ And very little use when he is there,” he 
added, either thinking the boatswain would nor 
hear him, or caring very little if he did. 

Trundle caught the words just as he was going 
up the fore-ladaer. and though he could not just 


NEIL D’ARCY’s life .AT SEA. 


179 


then take his pipe from liis moiitli to utter a retort, 
he gave a fierce look with one of his ferrety eyes, 
which showed that he acknowledged himself 
deeply in his messmate’s debt. His pipe sounded 
more shrill than usual, as he could not give any 
other vent to his feelings. 

“There’ll be a row before long between those 
two heroes ; just you mark that,” said I to Dicky, 
as we both hurried off to our stations. 

“ Ay,” said he, giving me a wink ; and I think 
I can put a spoke in their wheel to help them 
along.’^ 

It was near twelve o’clock, the ship being put 
about, the decks cleared up, and grog served out 
preparatory to dinner, when the boatswain made 
his appearance before the carpenter, his anger in 
no way appeased. 

“ miat’s that you were saying about me, Mr. 
Ichabod Chissel, I should like to know?” he ex- 
claimed, in an irate tone. 

“ Why, Mr. Trundle, no man likes to have his 
ferocity (veracity ?) doubted, and if you goes for to 
affirm that I’m a liar — I don’t mince matters, you’ll 
understand me — why, all I’ve got to say is, that 
you’re the biggest speaker of untruths as ever was 
born, whoever the mother was who got you. Put 
that in your pipe, Mr. Trundle, and smoke it.” 

This most insulting of all remarks increased ten- 
fold the boatswain’s rage, and the two would have 
come instantly to fistycuffs, but that, fortunately, 
at that moment the order to pipe to dinner was 
given. The boatswain’s call came into requisition, 
and all hands, except the watch on deck, were soon 
busily employed in discussing the contents of a 
3ask of beef, boasting of but a small proportion of 
t^at or lean and a considerable superfluity of bone. 

Now, it happened to be Dicky Sharpe’s watch 


180 


SALT WATER; OR, 


on deck while dinner was going on, and at one 
o’clock, being relieved, lie came down to his own 
i-epast, which he was not long in discussing. While 
lie sat turning a large rib-bone over and over, in 
disgust at finding so little meat on it, and waiting 
for the boy to clear away, the boatswain, whose 
cabin could bcNseen from the berth on the larboard 
iside, roused up from a nap, and began to contem- 
plate his visage in his glass, to discover if he 
looked in any way as if he had been asleep. It 
must be understood that it is contrary to the prin- 
ciples of a boatswain wmrthy of the rank ever to 
require sleep. He would consider himself dis- 
graced in the eyes of the whole crew, if he were 
caught taking 'a v/ink. A regular-built boatswain 
is often on deck from half-past three in the morn- 
ing till eleven at night; and should it be bad 
weather, or from any other cause, frequently two 
or three times during the night also ; and as to his 
cabin, he merely looks in occasionally and keeps his 
donnage there. 

How, to do him justice. Trundle was a thorough- 
going boatswain. While he was rubbing his eyes, 
to get the sleepiness out of them, pulling up his 
shirt-collar, and brusliing back his hair, the demon 
of mischief j)ut a thought into Dicky Sharpe’s head. 
To conceive, with Dicky, was to execute. I hap- 
pened to be descending from the main-deck, when 
I saw Dicky standing at the door of the birth, with 
the rib-bone in hand, and a wicked look in his eye. 
I instantly perceived the state of aftairs, and 'di- 
vined whk was to^ happen. Away flew the bone 
across the deck, with so good an aim that it made 
a cannon against the boatswain’s nose and his glass, 
breaking both one and the other with a loud crash, 
which was followed by a volley of oaths. The 
•teerage of a filgate, even when a sunbeam pena 


NEIL L’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 181 

trates through a scuttle, is not over and above 
brilliantly lighted, and on the piesent occasion, a 
purser’s dip here and there just enabled us to 
grope our way about the deck. IS'ow, it hap- 
pened that the carpenter at that moment was 
coming out of his berth, which was nearly oppo- 
site the boatswain’s. 

“ Oh ! you blessed Chissel ; I saw you heave 

that, you agrawating !” exclaimed Trundle, in 

a towering rage, exhibiting his bleeding nose and 
broken glass. 

“ I never hove any thing, and that you know, 

you !” answered Ichabod, drawing near to his 

adversary. 

‘‘ You did, though, you !” cried Trundle, 

doubling his fist, and dealing Icliabod a hit on the 
eye which almost stove it in. 

The blow was given back, and returned with in- 
terest, with expressions not fit for ears polite, till 
the noses of both heroes were streaming with 
blood, and their voices were hallooing away^at the 
highest pitch. Dicky was rubbing his hands in 
high glee at the successihl result of his experiment, 
when the captain, aroused by the hubbub, rang 
his bell to know what was the matter. This sound, 
like that of Oberon's magic horn, instantly para- 
lyzed the combatants ; and the sentry having put 
his head into the cabin, and made some report 
which apparently satisfied the skipper, the two 
warriors, like a couple of lions growling defiance 
at each other, retired to their berths, to stanch 
dieir bleeding wounds, and wash away the stains 
of the fight from their faces. 

Here the first thing which met the eye of the 
boatswain as he stooped to pick up the fragments 
of his glass, was the missile which had inflicted the 
.ryury. Xow, as the officers generally choose the 


i82 


SALT water; OB, 


long I'lbs of beef for roasting, for wbicb they pay 
one pound in six for the good of the ship’s com- 
pany, and the boatswain had actually seen the car- 
}) enter’s servant carrying a piece of rib-beef for 
his master’s dinner, he felt perfectly satisfied who 
had thrown the bone. Seizing it, therefore, in his 
hand, with the fragments of his glass, and his nose 
still bleeding, he rushed on deck, and halted, ipiiv- 
ering with rage, on the quarter-deck, in presence 
of the first lieutenant. 

“By Jupiter! what a whigging I shall get,” 
whispered Dicky, in a terrible liink. “I say, 
D’Arcy, my boy, don’t peach, though.” 

I cocked my eye, and pointing to the mast- 
head, — “ Six hours a day for the next week, eh I — 
pleasant, Dicky,” I answered. 

Master Dicky dared not show his face, lest his 
consciousness of guilt might betray itself; for, 
though unable to resist doing a piece of mischief 
when the temptation came in his way, he had not 
got the brazen front of a hardened sinner. I also, 
anxious as I was to learn the result of the trial, 
was afraid of showing too great an interest in it, 
lest suspicion should fall on me, and therefore 
walked the quarter-deck at a respectful distance, 
picking up what information I could on the w^. 

“What is this you have to complain of Mr, 
Trundle ?” asked the first lieutenant, as he stood at 
the capstern-head, with the enraged boatswain be- 
fore him. 

“ Why, sir, as I was a-cleaning myself just now 
in my cabin, a-thinking no harm of nobody, Mr. 
Ichabod Chissel, the carpenter of this here ship^ 
sir, and my brother ofiicer, thinks fit to heave this 
here rib-bone right across the steerage against ray 
nose and my glass, and breaks both on ’em. Il 
that ain’t enough to aggrawate and perwoke and 


NEIL d’aRCY'S life AT SEA. 


183 


and — (lie stopped for a word) — flabbergast any one, 
I don’t know what is, sir, you’ll allow.” 

“ Yery much so, I grant,” observed Mr. Du Pre, 
taking the bone between his fingers and holding 

behind his back. “ Send Mr. Chissel here.” 

The carpenter soon made his appearance. 

“ Pray, Mr. Chissel, what part of the meat had 
you for your dinner, to-day asked Mr. Du Pre. 

“ The tail, sir ?” said the carpenter. 

“ What became of the bone after dinner ?” asked 
the first lieutenant. 

“The boy cleared it away with the rest of the 
things, sir,” was the answer. 

“Ijet the boy be sent for,” said Mr. Du Pre. 

Bobby Smudge soon came rolling along, hitch- 
ing up his trousers as he approached the capstern. 

There was a wicked look in the young rascafs 
eye, which made me suspect he knew all about the 
matter. He was the most complete little Pickle in 
the ship, and was continually getting punished — 
and most deservedly, too — by his master. The 
very day before, the carpenter had reported liim, 
and he had got eleven finnams on the hand fur 
having, in conveying Mr. Chissel’s grog from the 
tub to his cabin, been detected in the very act of 
taking a hatchway nip — the said hatchway nip, let 
it be undei*stood, being a sip snatched furtively b}^ 
the bearer of a glass of grog on the ladder descend- 
ing from the main to the lower deck. A finnam, 1 
must also explain, is a blow inflicted on the hand . 
with a cane generally, by the master-at-arms, 
f)r the ship’s corporal. To the said finnams ])oor 
Bobby Smudge’s black paws were well accustomed. 

“ Boy, what was done with the bone after your 
master’s dinner ?” asked Mr. Du Pre, in a severe 
one. 

“Pm sure I don’t know, sir,” replied Bolby 


184 


SALT water; or, 


Smudge, m a long drawl, worthy of a London pro 
fessional street-beggar. 

“ Should you know it again if you saw it asked 
the tirst lieutenant. 

“ Oh yes, sir ; I’m sure I should,” replied Master 
Smudge, brightening up and looking the picture 
of innocent simplicity. 

‘•Well, my boy, what do you say to this?” said 
Mr. Du Pre, producing the bone from behind his 
back. 

All eyes turned towards Bobby Smudge — the 
carpenter’s fate hung on his decision. The young 
monkey felt his importance, and determined to 
exert it. Chissel knew it was the very sort of bone 
lie had scraped not an hour before. Bobby took 
it, and, turning it round, examined it narrowly. 

“ Oh yes, sir ; I’ll swear to it, that I will,” he ex- 
claimed, holding up his blistered hand behind his 
))ack so that the carpenter might observe it. “As 
[ was a-trying to get my dinner otf it, I notched it 
with my knife, I knowed I did, ’cause there was so 
little meat on it.” 

“ Oh,, yoii young liar,” muttered the car- 

penter — ^for he dared not speak aloud ; “ won’t I 
pay you off, that’s all ?” 

The boy heard him and gave a grin of defiance. 

“Mr. Chissel, go to your cabin, and consider 
yourself under arrest,” said the first lieutenant ; “I 
mr.st report this affair to the captain. The disci- 
pline of the ship cannot be thus trifled with ; and 
oflicers especially, who ought to know better, must 
not be allowed to set the men so bad an example 
with impunity.” 

Saying this, Mr. Du Pre resumed his walk on 
the quarter-deck, and I hurried down to report 
what had occurred to my chum -Dicky. At first 


NEIL L’aBCY’S life AT SEA. 


186 


lie was highly delighted at having escaped detec- 
tian. 

“ Stop a bit, Dicky,” said I ; I don’t think you 
are quite out of the fire yet. It will never do to 
let the carpenter be disrated or dismissed the ship 
for conduct of which he is innocent. The truth 
must come out ; and, to my mind, honesty is the 
best policy.” 

‘‘Well, but don’t you see, D’Arcy, I shall get 
mastheaded and have my leave stopped, and I 
don’t know what else — all for shying a bone across 
the steerage,” argued Dicky. “ w hat business had 
the boatswain and carpenter to hit each other, I 
should like to know. 6* that stupid Trundle had 
taken the joke in good part, there wouldn’t have 
been all this row.” 

I laughed outright at Master Kichard’s style of 
reasoning. 

“ That argument won’t stand good with the skip- 
per,” said 1. “Now, come, let me do the only 
thing that can set matters to rights ; because it is 
the right thing. I’m a bit of a favourite with Mr. 
Du Pre, I suspect, and I’ll go up to him at once, and 
tell him the truth. If any thing can get you off, 
that will ; and if the afiair reac&s the ears of the 
captain, there will be a very serious row, I’m cer- 
tain.” 

At last Dicky consented to my plan, and, with- 
out waiting to let him change his mind, I went on 
deck, where I found the first lieutenant. 

“ I’ve got something to say about that beef-bone, 
lir,” I began. 

“ What’s that, Mr. D’Arcy,” he exclaimed, turn- 
ing sharp round : “ when am I to hear the last of 
that beef-bone ?” 

“Why, sir, it wasn’t the carpenter threw it, but 


16 * 


18 G 


Salt Water; or, 


o^e of tlie niidsliipmen— he cotildu’t help it, thougk 
Ko one could, I’m sure,” I rapped out. 

“ Why, Master D’Arcy, I verily believe you’re 
the culpritj” he exclaimedj looking at me stead- 
fastly. 

I detected, however, a smile in his eye, which 
showed that his auger was not very serious ; so I 
at once told him exactly how the matter had oc- 
curred, and that Dicky had begged me to come 
and confess the truth and intercede for him. Mas- 
ter Sharpe was therefore sent for ; and, having been 
severely reprimanded, was told that as soon as we 
got into harbour his leave would be stopped, and 
was then ordered to the masthead for a couple of 
hours, to sit there instead of on the stool of repent- 
ance. The carpenter was released from arrest, on 
condition that he should keep the peace. The 
boatswain’s nose mended in the course of a few 
days ; and, though reminded of the outrage eveiy 
time he attempted to shave before his broken bit 
of looking-glass, he and Chissel soon patched up 
their quarrel and resumed their former intimacy. 
The person who fared worst was Bobby Smudge, 
who, never a favourite with his master, now 
obtained^a double allowance of tinnams, and a 
sly rope’s-ending whenever opportunities offered. 
Bobby began to discover that revenge, though 
sweet, may recoil on the head of the avenger, and 
become very bitter. More, ultimately, came out 
of the beef-bone affair. 


187 


, ISTEIL D'ARCY'S LIFE AT SEA. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

BEACH THE MEDITERRANEAN — MALTA ^A RIDE ON SHORE — A 

BALL A HEROINE — OUR PARTNERS — ^MR. NIP AND HIS PART- 

NER — ^AN OLD EGG HATCHED — ADAM STALLMAN’s ADVICE — 

THE EIGHT THING THE BEST THING. 

I^OTHiNG of importance occurred that I remem- 
ber during our passage across the Bay of Biscay. 
We had the usual heavy swells, (though I have 
found it as level as a fish-pond,) a stifiish breeze for 
a day or so, which gave us a cheery shove on our 
way, and light and variable winds and calms, 
which latter let us roll till our yard-arms almost 
touched the water, and effectually turned the lands- 
men inside out. Ten days after leavii^ Plymouth 
we were in the latitude of Lisbon. It was early 
morning, and the land Ave were approaching was 
shrouded to common eyes by a soft silvery haze, 
which allowed only a circle of blue sea to -be per- 
ceived round the ship, and a patch of about the 
same size of clear sky overhead. On the larboard- 
Dow was perceived a darker mass of mist, Avhich, 
after some time, resolved itself into the Avell-known 
form of the Kock of Lisbon. The wind being 
light and variable, we drew very gradually in- 
shore, till the mist suddenly lifting, as if at the 
command of a magician, disclosed to us the 
splendid and fantastic scenery of those rocky 
heights, as they rose proudly from the glittering 
ocean, which was dotted with numerous sails ot 
fishing-boats and coasters, and here and there the 
canvas of some loftier merchantmen, making for 
the mouth of the Tagus. On the lower land, to 
he north of the Kock, was seen the royal palace 


188 


SALT water; or, 


of Mafra — a curious huge pile, imposing from its 
height and the large extent of ground it covei’S. I 
do not, however, intend to bother my readers with 
accounts of places and scenery, which they may 
hnd much better described in numberless books of 
voyages and travels. The wind freshening and 
coming fair, we continued our course, and, passing 
the Capes of Ortegal and Finisterre on the second 
day afrer leaving the Kock, were off Cape St. Yin- 
cent, immortalized in naval memories by Sir John 
Jervis’s great action, and since then, by the way, 
bj a very pretty bit of fighting under Charlie 

apier, when he took possession of Don Miguel’s 
ffeet with one half its size. Cape Trafalgar next 
came in sight, and was eagerly viewed by all 
hands, for, often as one may gaze on its dark blue 
cliffs, the deep interest they inspire can never fail ; 
one is reminded that in their neighbourhood the 
glorious navy of England, under the greatest of its 
chiefs, secured the freedom of the world, and struck 
the blow w^hich stopped the victor of continental 
Emjppg.^ his wild career of conquest. Peace to 
the manes England’s gallant defenders, who died 
for their country off’ Trafalgar’s Cape ! and sacred 
be the memory of the immortal Nelson, our meteor- 
Bag of victory I But, little Neil D’Arcy, where 
are you steering for ? Has the sight of Trafalgar 
made you fancy you can do a bit of fine writing ? 
Just get back, boy, to your usual style, and leave 
such attempts to the pens of novelists and trav- 
ellers. 

It was near nightfall when we made the Rock 
of Gibraltar ; and, as we passed through the Straits 
when I was snug below in my hammock, my jour- 
nal contains no description of that wonderful 
fortress. When the morning dawned, the high 
mountains of Spain were just visible in the horizon ; 


NEIL D'ARCY'S life AT SEA. 18^ 

and the next land we sighted was the coast of 
Barbaiy, somewhere to the westward of Tunis, 
Six days after that we were in sight of Sicily, when, 
after hauling off the coast, a gale sprung up, and 
such thick and cloudy weather came on, that we 
could take no observations. The ship was there- 
fore hove-to, and while sail was being taken off 
lier I got an ugly fall, which laid me up in my 
hammock for several days. During my illness, 
Dicky Sharpe was constantly with me, whenever 
he was off duty, and we became greater friends 
than ever. 

“ Do you know, D’Arcy, I am really very much 
obliged to you for having got me so well out of 
that scrape with the boatswain and the beef-bone,” 
he said to me in a tone of confidence one day after 
we had reached Yaletta harbour. “I have not 
ventured to ask Mr. Du Pre leave to go on shore — 
do you think he would give it me ?” 

“I rather think not, Dicky,” said I. “Don’t 
say a word about it for some time to come, and 
then you can begin to look dull and melancholy, 
and to pine for the shore, and perhaps his heart 
will soften with compassion, and he will give you 
leave.” 

“Capital advice! Won’t I look melancholy, 
that’s all, when the time comes,” he exclaimed, 
“ How soon ought I to begin ?” 

“ Hot till I’m well and can go on shore to look 
after you,” I answered. 

The fact was, I wanted Dicky’s company when 
I could go on shore myself, which the surgeon told 
me I might do in a few days ; and when asking for 
myself, I intended putting in a word with Mr. Du 
Pre in his favour. When I crawled on deck I 
found the ship had taken up her moorings in 
Dockyard Creek, a branch of the Grand Harbour 


190 


SALT water; or, 


from wliicli it runs at right angles, on the opposite 
bide to Yaletta. Most deservedly is the Grand 
Harbour so called ; for in beauty, size, and security 
it is unsurpassed ; and it is singular that it should 
exist in an island of dimensions so limited. Malta 
has an individuality of its own. It is like no 
other spot in the world ; and when one looks at 
the magnificent lines of batteries, bristling with 
camion, and the mass of churches, monasteries, and 
liouses, which towers above them, one can scarcely 
believe that the whole has been hewn out of the 
solid rock of which the island is composed. But 
I am not going to describe Malta. In three or 
four days more I was quite well, and having suc- 
ceeded in obtaining leave from Mr. Hu Pre for 
Hicky to accompany me on shore, we landed at 
the Hix Mangiare steps, and took our way through 
tlie town. The first thing we did was to hire 
liorses to take a ride into the country. Both of us 
could stick on pretty well, (what midshipman can- 
not?) but, as for science, we had none of it. At 
first we trotted on gaily enough, and then our 
liorses broke into a gallop, which we enjoyed very 
much. 

Capital goers, these !” exclaimed Dicky. “ If 
they keep up at this rate, I vote we take a regular 
circuit of the island.” 

“ Faith, then, I’m ready for that same,” said I, 
and on we galloped. 

So delighted were we at the way c ur steeds went, 
that we sat the saddles and held our reins rather 
loosely. On a sudden they both came to a full 
stop, and up simultaneously went their heels in the 
air ; over their heads we new, and alighted some 
dozen yards off, while the well-trained beasts, with 
neighs of derision which were trrdy provoking, 
galloped back to their stables, leaving us to find 


NEIL l^akcy’s life at sea. 191 

our way into Yaletta as best we could. By-tlie-b}', 
the horse-master had taken very good care to get 
paid first. Dicky sat up on the ground and rub- 
bed his head, to discover if it was broken. I fol- 
lowed his example, and finding no bones dislocated, 
my spirits rose again. We looked at each other, 
when there appeared something so ludicrously for- 
lorn in the expression of our countenances, that we 
both burst out into fits of laughter. We indulged 
in our mirth for some time, and then got up and 
commenced our walk back into the town. For- 
tunately, we had not got any very great distance 
from the walls, so the walk was easy of accom- 
plishment. We had proceeded about a mile or so, 
when two midshipmen hove in sight, galloping 
along in high glee on the very horses which had 
just disburdened themselves of us. 

“ Hillo ! you fellows, those are our horses,” sang 
out Dicky ; “just get off now, will you?” 

But he might as well have called a whirlwind to 
halt ; for, helter-skelter, past us they dashed, with- 
out minding us a bit. Dicky was highly indignant. 

“Well, I never w^as so treated in my life,” he 
exclaimed. 

“ Wait a bit,” said I ; for I had a shrewd suspi- 
cion that the horses would play their present riders 
the same trick they had served us ; and sure enough, 
in about ten minutes, we heard a clattering of 
lioofs behind us, and, looking round, saw the know- 
ing old steeds coming, galloping along by them- 
selves. 

“IS'ow, now’s the time, Dicky,” I sang out. 
“ You catch one and I’ll catch the other, and we* 11 
still have our ride out. The horses are ours, there’s 
no doubt of it.” 

Sooner said, however, than done. The beasts 
came on very steadily till they got close to us, an(J 


192 


SALT WATLR; or, 


then they began rearing and frisking, and kicking 
up such a dust that it was impossible to catch hold 
of their bridles ; and, it must be confessed, we were 
glad enough to get out of their way without being 
trampled over. 

“ Where are the brutes ?” I asked, feeling very 
tbolish. 

“ Where are they ?” echoed Dicky, looking the 
same. “There they go as steady as cart-horses. 
Hang it! — they knew we were midshipmen.” 

Our only satisfaction was to see a third set of 
riders come out on the same brutes, and to be able 
to laugh in our sleeves, while we wished them a 
pleasant ride across the island. What became of 
all the riders, I don’t know. The steeds again 
passed us just before we reached the gates. Three 
or four evenings after this, the officers of the ship 
were asked to a ball, and the captain took Dicky 
and me. We did not know anybody, and were 
hard up for partners, till the skipper introduced 
us each to, a Maltese girl. They were both very 
short, though that was a fault on the right side, 
but they were also very fat and very dark, and 
could not speak a word of English ; and one 
squinted, and the other had lost an eye. Their 
noses turned up, and their lips were thick and 
large. They were not beauties, certainly ; but we 
danced with them all the evening, changing every 
now and then for variety, though I had to loot 
hard to make out which was my original partner, 
as I only knew them apart by the defect in their 
eyes. Dicky asked me if I did’nt think them as 
pretty as Alice Marlow, at which I very nearly 
knocked him down in the ball-room. But he ap 
peased me by assuring me with the greatest grav 
ity, that he admired the squinting one very much, 
and should certainly, if he were older, make her 


NEIL D’aRCY’s life AT SEA 193 

Mrs. Sharpe. -He did nothing but talk about her 
for two days afterwards ; and, as we did not know 
her real name, we called her Miss Smaitch, which, 
though not euphonious, did as well as any other. 
On the third day he dined with an officer in the 
dockyard who had a numerous family of daughters, 
to one of whom he transferred his affections, and 
they remained steady for nearly a week, about 
which time we left Malta. To return to the ball, 
however. When Dicky and I were not dancing, 
we amused ourselves by watching what was going 
forward, especially in observing the occupations of 
our superior officers. 

“I say, D’Arcy, who is that young lady Mr. 
N^ernon is dancing with, I wonder? She is a stun- 
ner, isn’t she, my boy ?” said Dicky, sidling up to 
me, and pointing with his chin towards a very 
beautiful girl, to whom our second lieutenant had 
just then given his hand, and was leading up to 
form a quadrille. 

There was a roseate blush on her cheek, and a 
brightening glance in her eye, as she looked up at 
the gallant officer, which betokened more than or- 
dinary satisfaction at being chosen his partner in 
the dance. The colour increased, and the eyes 
brightened still more, while a smile played round 
her ruby lips, as Mr. Yernon uttered, in a low tone, 
a few words in her ear. 

Dicky observed it. ‘‘ I twig something there,” 
lie whispered. “What will you bet me, D’Arcy, 
that Mr. Yernon doesn’t splice that same young 
lady, now^ ? It’s a regular case, depend on it. 1 
thought there was something going on, he’s been 
so constantly on shore since we came into harbour. 
He’s a right ^ood fellow, and I wish him joy.” 

“ I hope, if it is a case, that he’ll not marry till 
tJie ship is out of commission,” I remarked, “I 
^ ir 


194 


SALT WATER; OR, 


eliould be sorry indeed to lose him ; but we must 
not talk so loud, or we shall be overheard.” 

Just then the captain came up, to make Dicky 
dance with l.is Miss Smaitch. I was left alone to 
watch proceedings. From what I saw, I was fully 
convinced that Master Sharpe’s conjectures were 
well founded; and that Mr. Yernon and the fair 
unknown were certainly deeply in love with each 
otlier, and most probably engaged. She certainly, 
as far as I could judge from mere appearance, was 
well worthy the love of any man. Young as I was, 
slie made a deep impression on me ; and, even at 
this distance of time, I can bring her Hebe-like 
figure before me, with almost the vivid colours of 
reality. She was not tall, but her figure was full 
of grace and life. Her complexion was beautifully 
fair ; her eyes were blue ; and the expression of her 
countenance was soft, feminine, and full of sweet- 
ness ; at the same time, the arch smile which oc- 
casionally played over it showed that she was not 
destitute of sense and wit. 

While I was looking on, I was joined by Adam 
Stallman, one of the senior mates of the Harold. 
I have slightly mentioned him before. He was of 
a somewhat grave and taciturn disposition, but 
generous and kind, and as brave and honourable 
as any knight sans peur et sans reproche. He read 
much and thought more, and was ready to give 
good advice when asked for it ; but innate modesty 
prevented him from volunteering to afford it, ex- 
cept on rare occasions, when he saw that it was 
absolutely necessary to preserve a person from fol- 
lowing a path which might lead him to ruin. 

Diciy and I were favourites of his ; for though 
he kept us in order, and more than once had in- 
flicted a sound cobbing on my chum, (certainly 
\7ell deserved,) he was very kind to us. 


NEIL d’ARCY's life AT SEA. 195 

“ I say, Stallman, can you tell me who the 
young lady is with whom Mr. Yernon is dancing 
said L 

. Why do you ask he inquired. 

‘‘ Because she is very beautiful,’’ I replied. 

The colour heightened on his generally impas 
si ye, well-bronzed features, as his eye fell on the 
lady whom I indicated. “ Yes,” ‘^he answered, 
with a hrm yoice, ‘‘that lady is Miss Blanche 
Korman, the daughter of Major Norman, who is 
out here for his health ; but wouldn’t you like to 
dance, youngster ?” 

I told him that I had been engaged by the cap- 
tain to dance with Miss Smaitch No. 2. 

“Well, come to me if you want a partner,” he 
said^ and moyed on. 

I saw him soon afterwa'is go up and shake 
hands y'ith Miss Norman. His lip momentarily 
quiyered, I saw ; but his countenance otherwise 
'•emained firm. She receiyed him as an old ac- 
quaintance, and seemed glad to see him. 

I took into my head that Adam was in loye with 
her, or had been ; but that, as he had little besides 
his pay to depend on, he could not indulge a dream 
of marrying. From what I afterwards learned, I 
was right in this conjeckire. Poor fellow ! he had 
loyed her well and deeply ; but he had neyer told 
his loye. She might haye suspected his attach- 
ment, but with the tact and delicacy of a right- 
minded woman she did not allow him to discoyer 
that she did" so, but endeayoured, by the frank 
kindness of her words and maimer, to take away 
the bitterness from the wound she was inflicting. 
I do not mean to say, howeyer, that at the time J 
knew this, but I made a pretty shrewd guess at 
the truth. In a little time, Dicky came hurrying 
up to me witii a look full of importance. 


196 


SALT WATER; OR, 


say, D’Arcy, IVe found out all about it. 
I heard our Medico tell Old JS’ip (meaning the 
purser) that Yernon proposed a few days ago to 
Miss Norman, and was accepted ; so they are 
regularly engaged, you know, and he has a right 
to dance with her as often as he likes. What fun 
for him ! I know that I should like to be in his 
place. That’s her father : not the tall man with 
the white hair, but the shorter one, next him. He 
looks almost too young to be her father, doesn’t 
he? Perhaps his being ill makes him look so. 
They are soon going home ; but they are to stop at 
Gibraltar, so the doctor says.” 

“ I am afraid you’ve been an eavesdropper, 
Dicky, to hear all this,” I observed ; “ and that, 
you know, is not a very creditable character.” 

“ I know that as well as you do,” he answered ; 
'‘‘but I could not help myself, for I was jammed 
up in the refreshment room between two fat 
Maltese ladies and the supper-table, and I couldn’t 
have moved without the risk of staving-in theii 
sides with my elbows. Old Nip and the Medico 
were on the other side of them, sipping their 
negus, and didn’t see me.” 

“That’s all right; and small blame to you, 
Dicky,” said I. “ Well, I heartily wish Mr. Yer- 
non joy ; and if his love don’t run smooth, and he 
ever wants a helping hand, I only hope he’ll let me 
give it him.” 

“There’s nothing I should like better, too, inde- 
pendent of my regard for Mr. Yernbn,” observed 
Dicky, pompously. 

I remember that we long discussed the proba- 
bilities of Mr. Yernon’s requiring our services ; 
and we came to the conclusion, that though we 
should be delighted to help him to obtain the 
, lady’s hand in any way he might require, in prin 


NEIL D ARCY'S LIFE AT SEA. 197 

ciple the running away with a lady was decidedly 
wrong. 

The subject was changed by our seeing tlie 
))in-ser lead out one of the fat ladies, behind wlioin 
Dicky had been hid, to aUempt a waltz. Never 
was there a more extraordinary performance. 
N either of them had a notion of the dance. They 
tioundered and flolloped, and twisted and turned, 
and tumbled against all the other couples till they 
spread consternation around; and at last found 
themselves the sole performers in the room. As 
poor Nip went twirling round, much in the way 
that a child’s humming-top does when it begins to 
stagger preparatory to stopping, he perceived a 
suppressed laugh on the lips and in the eyes of the 
surrounding spectators ; and, suspecting that he 
might be the cause of it, gave ^ convulsive gripe 
at his partner’s waist, or at the part where her 
waist should be, in order to bring himself to an 
anchor. The effort was too great for his powers, 
and both he and she came with a run to the floor, 
close to where Dicky and I were standing. There 
they kicked and struggled in vain efforts to rise. 
At this, Dick}^ could no longer contain himself, 
but, regardless of the purser’s anger, burst into 
loud fit of laughter. However, we ran forward 
do our best to get the hero and heroine on theii 
legs again, though we were too much convulsed tc 
be of much assistance. 

I’ll pay you off for this. Master Sharpe,’’ 
whispered the purser, looking up fiercely. 

“1 couldn’t help it, indeed I could not,” an- 
swered Dicky, in an apologetic tone; “you did 
look so funny.” 

“ I’ll wring your ears off, you young puppy,” 
cried poor Nip, rising and shaking himself, in his 
rage, forgetting the fair sharer of his misfortune. 

17 * 


198 


^ALT WATER; OR. 


“ Look .to yoar partner, Mr. Clieesnip,” said 
Captain Poynder, coining np, and guessing the 
cause of the purser’s anger. “ Here, Sharpe, help 
me to put the lady on her legs.” 

By some pulling aad hauling, and by others 
shoving behind, we got Madam Cheesnip, as we 
ever after called her, into a perpendicular posi- 
tion ; but she was too much shaken to dance again, 
especially with the cause of her misfortune. Li- 
deed, for the rest of the evening the ladies fought 
very shy of poor ISTip, and we took good care to 
keep out of his way. Dicky and I stayed to the 
last, spending our time very satisfactorily between 
our two partners and the refreshment and supper- 
rooms ; and I am afraid to mention the vast amount 
of sandwiches, cakes, and bonbons which Dicky 
consumed, washed down by cups of coffee, lemon- 
ade, and negus. At length, when nearly every- 
body was gone, with the exception of a few other 
midshipmen, and the musicians could no longer 
wag their bows, we deemed it time also to retire. 
We had got leave to stay on shore, but it just then 
occurred to us that we had forgot to order oui 
beds. 

“ Hever mind,” said Dicky, “ we are certain to 
tind them at some hotel or other.” 

As we were putting on our cloaks, Tve found that 
there were five or six more midshipmen belonging 
to other ships in the same predicament as ourselves. 
To get beds at that hour of the morning, we dis- 
covered was not so easy, as all the hotels, from 
some cause or other, were full. We hunted about 
.or some time, and were proposing trying to get on 
loard our ships, though jDicky Sharpe declared ho 
should take up his berth inside one of the casks 
generally found down on the shore of the harbour, 
with their heads off ; but we advised him not, aa 


VEIL D’aRCY’s life AT SEA. 199 

they are \ ae usual abode of the beggar boys who 
infest Nix Mangiare stairs, and would be apt to 
have more inhabitants than one, when some of the 
party, who were on ahead, shouted out that they 
had found as cozy a place of shelter as they could 
wish. We were in the upper part of the town, 
which, as most of my readers probably know, is at 
a considerable elevation above the water. As it 
had lately begun to rain hard, and we had no de- 
sire to wander farther, there was a general rush 
made to the front. Tlie cozy place to \vhich we 
were invited, turned out to be an old family coach, 
which was standing at the top of a narrow lane, in- 
tended to be used only by foot-passengers. How- 
ever, it was a place some midshipmen had lately 
amused themselves by galloping up and down ; 
but, to prevent such an exhibition of horseman- 
ship, a guard had been stationed at the bottom, to 
prevent anv similar attempt for the future. But 
to return to the coach. The first comers had 
taken possession, and, one after the other, the rest 
scrambled m, till, by the time Dicky and I, who 
were rather behind, got up, it could hold no more ; 
at all events, those inside decided that such was 
the case. This was not what we had bargained 
for, and neither of us was inclined to yield his 
right to a share and shelter without a struggle. 
The doors* had not been shut; and while Dicky 
boarded on one side, I tried to get in on the other. 
Wet caps and fists were dashed in our faces, but, 
undaunted, we strove on. I had actually forced 
iny way in, and was stretching over a hand to my 
chum, who had got his feet on the step, when some 
one exclaimed, “By Jupiter! she is under way.” 
And, sure enough, our struggles had set the lum- 
bering old vehicle moving. On it went, rolling 
and rattling down the steep pathway, which wo 


200 


SALT water; or, 


had totally forgotten. To get out was impossible, 
without the certainty almost of knocking our heads 
against the walls of the houses on either side — ot 
being jammed between them and the wheels, or 
of being run over. We hauled Dicky in to save 
his life, and away we all went together, the vehicle 
every moment increasing its velocity. The path, 
from sloping from each side to the centre, kept her 
on a straigiit course, or we should have brought 
up against some steps, or a curbstone, and been 
saved from the approaching catastrophe. But no 
such good fortune was in store for us. Rolling 
and rattling, and screeching and creaking, ana 
bumping and thumping, downward went the 
carriage, we inside keeping up a chorus of shouts 
and shrieks. Most of us laughed, but one or two, 
wlio were strangei's to the place, were in a mortal 
fright, not knowing whether we might find a pre- 
cipice at the bottom, and be shot over, perhaps 
into the sea. Yery soon, too, we reached some 
steps, down which we went, of course, faster than 
ever, with terrific bounds, till the cranky old 
vehicle could no longer stand the unusual move- 
ment. 

“ Who goes there ?” shouted the sentry at the 
bottom of the steps. 

‘^Turn out the guard,” echoed the serjeant, not 
able to make out the cause of the unusual com- 
motion. Just then the carriage split asunder, and 
sent us flying, with swoi’ds, dirks and hats, in differ- 
ent directions. 

Arrah, was ever such an egg hatched before ?” 
exclaimed the serjeant, who was an Irishman, run- 
ning up and seizing hold of the first he' could lay 
hands on. “ Come, young gentlemen, I must march 
you off to the guard-house.” 

“March the coach oft’, if you please, serjeant; 


NEIL T) ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


201 


but we are innocent, like the new-hatched babes 
which we are,” cried Dicky Sharpe, who was one 
of those ill custody. “ The order is against people 
on horseback coming this way : we hadn’t even 
horses to our eggshell.” 

The Serjeant, amused by the way Dicky took up 
his joke, and seeing there was no use detaining 
us, consented not to molest us. We then invited 
ourselves to go' to the guard-house, where we pass- 
ed the remainder of the night, with our cigars to 
comfort us. I am sorry to say that we did not go 
back to try and find the owners of the coach, that 
we might apologize to them for having inflicted so 
much injury on their property, which we ought 
certainly to have done. We none of us thought 
any thing more would come of it.” 

“ Oh !’’ said Dicky Sharpe, rubbing his hands, 
‘‘ the owners will think that the old coach grew 
tired of waiting all by itself, so ran down the hill 
to it warm.” 



We resolved, therefore, to say nothing about the 
matter. The next day, while it was my watch on 
deck, w'e were ordered to send a boat to bring otf 
a party of ladies from the shore. Dicky, who be- 
longed to the boat, went in her. As they reached 
the ship, and the sides were manned to receive 
them, I saw that Mr. Yernon was in the boat, 
accompanied by Major and Miss JSTormaii, and 
several other ladies and gentlemen. The care with 
which he handed her up the side, and the attention 
he paid her, as he showed the party round the 
decks, convinced me still further that what I had 
beard last night was the truth. Adam Stallman 
accompanied them : he was grave, but kind and 
courteous as. usual, and seemed to take great pains 
to answer all the questions, some of them not a little 
ridiculous, which were put to him. Mr. Yernon 


202 


SALT WATER; OR, 


invited liiin to join the luiiclieoii-party in the ward 
room, so I did not see what followed. 

As soon as the boat was hoisted in, Dicky came 
lip to me. 

“ I say, D’Arcy,” said he, “ it’s all blown, and we 
are in for it, I guess.” 

‘‘ What’s blown?” I asked. 

“ Why, the coach affair, of course,” he replied. 
“ As we were coming off they were all talking of 
it, and Mr. Yernon said he was very sure I was 
one of the chickens, so there was no use denying it. 
It‘ it gets to the captain’s ears we shall have our leave 
stopped, and I shan’t have a chance of seeing little 
Miss Smaitch again.” 

We consulted long what was to be done, but 
could come to no decision on the subject. After 
the guests were gone, Adam Stallman came dowii 
into the berth. 

“Youngsters,” said he, “I suspect both of you 
were engaged in the destruction of the coach last 
night. Is it not so ?” 

We confessed the truth, and told him exactly 
how it happened. 

“ Did you endeavour to lind out the owners, and 
to make them all the amends in your power for the 
mischief you had committed ?” 

We owned that we had not. 

“ You neglected your bounden duty, then,” he 
observed. “ You should recollect, that every act 
of meanness committed a British officer brings 
discredit on the cloth. When a man is guilty of a 
fault, he but increases it if he neglects to make 
reparation for it. l!low, if I get leave for you to 
accompany me on shore, will you follow my direc- 
tions?” We promised we would. “Well then, 
we wiU find out the owners of the coach, and you 
must go and tell them that you are very sorry for 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


203 


the mischief you committed, explain how it hap- 
pened, and beg their pardon. I do not think you 
can exactly oner to give them a new coach ; nor 
would they expect it, probably.” 

At this, Dicky looked very blue, but he could 
not escape from his promise, and he soon mustered 
a sufficiency of moral courage to carry him through 
the work. I was, I own, very glad in being thus 
supported in doing what I felt was right. 

In the afternoon we wont on shore, and set off at 
once to the scene of our adventure. The fragments 
of the coach had been removed. Climbing up the 
lane, we made inquiries at the top — at least Adam, 
who spoke Italian, did — ^tbr any family from the 
country who might be stopping at a house near at 
hand. . 

“ Oh, you want Signora Faranelli, whose coach 
was run away with last night by some ragamuf- 
fins,” said the master of a small shop where we 
inquired. 

“ The same,” answered Adam. 

“ She and her daughters are staving with Signor 
Bianconi at the big house, there.” 

Adam led us to the house indicated. 

“ I feel in a great funk,” whispered Dicky , 

don’t you, D’Arcy ? What shall we say !” 

The truth,” said I ; “ it’s the only thing we can 
say. Tell our tale from beginning to end.” 

We sent in our c'ards, Avitli a message, to say that 
two naval officers wislied to speak to Signora Fara- 
nelli. Adam said he should wait outside for us, 
and told us to make haste. We were speedily"' 
requested to walk upstairs, and were ushered into 
a room full of company, when a very pleasing, kind- 
looking lady came forward and inquired to what 
cause she was indebted for the honour of our visit. 
As I knew Sharpe would make some mistake, I had 


m 


SALT WATER; OR, 


offered to aot as spokesman, and at once told the 
whole of onr tale. 

“ Oh, it was very naughty in the carriage to run 
away with you,” she replied, in a goodnatured tone, 
in somewhat broken English; “and it was very 
stupid in my servants to leave it standing on the 
top of the hill, though but natural that you, on a 
rainy night, should take shelter wdtliin it. I had 
been told that it was purposely sent rolling down 
the hill by a party of tipsy naval officers, and I was 
resolved to complain of them ; but the frank way 
in which you have come forward to explain the 
matter removes all disagreeable feeling on the sub- 
ject, and I am very happy to make your acquaint- 
ance.” 

Dicky Sharpe drew a deep breath, as if some 
dire forebodings were removed. I don’t know 
what he thought was going to haj^pen to us. 

“ I must now introduce you to Signor Bianconi, 
and I am sure he will have great pleasure if you 
can remain and spend the evening with us,” contin- 
ued the lady. “ I shall hope also tc) see you shortly 
at my house in the country.” 

We thanked Signora Faranelli very much for 
iier kindness, but explained that we had a friend 
waiting outside for us, who had, however, nothing 
to do with the carriage affair. Of course Adam 
Stallman was requested to come in, and to my sur 
prise, he consented. 

“ I like what you tell me of the people, D’Arcy, 
jand their acquaintance must be worth making,” he 
Observed. 

W e spent a very pleasant evening, got on board 
in good time, anct the next day, meeting some of 
our companions in the carriage adventure, were 
able to relieve their minds from certain apprehen- 
sions of the consequences, and to tell them of the 


NEIL L’ARCr^S LIFE AT SEA. 


205 


satisfactory results ; nor did we fail to give Stall- 
man credit, — which was his due. They^ the rogues, 
were now in a great hurry to go and apologize also ; 
but their impudence, for a wonder, would not carry 
them up to the point for action. 

Whenever we put into Malta, Dicky and I did 
not fail to call on Signora Faranelli and Signora 
llianconi ; and many a happy day we spent at their 
houses. Often and often I have since seen, that 
by acting with truthfulness and candour very much 
inconvenience, and even misery and suffering, 
might have been saved, and much good obtained. 
There is a golden rule 1 must urge on my young 
friends ever to follow : — Do rights and leave the 
result to God. 


CHAPTER XV. 

SAILmO OF THE AEIADNE — OHISSEl’s CRUELTY — LOSS OF BOBI S 
SMUDGE — A HEAVY SQUALL — BOBBY SMUDGe’s GHOST RE- 

FLECTIONS THEREON. 

* 

Shortly after this, we were ordered to get ready 
for sea, though our destination was not known. 
Before we sailed Major and Miss hTorman again 
came on board, and we heard that, his health being 
re-established, they had taken their passage in a 
brig bound for England. We were very sorry foi 
this, as we feared that Mr. Yernon would be wush- 
ing to go home to marry, and that we should thus* 
lose him. The next morning the Ariadne.^ the brig 
in question, a remarkably fine vessel for an English 
merchantman of those days, (for a more detestable 
fleet of tubs were never sent afloat,) was seen to be 
getting up her anchor and loosing topsails. Mr. 
Vernon had gone away in the second gig at an 
*18 


206 


SALT WATER; OR, 


early hour ; ^aiid she was now alongside, while 
lie, with his boat’s crew, were on hoard. We 
could see him standing with Miss Blanche I^orman 
on deck. 

“ More gallant knight or fairer lady never trod 
this mortal world,” quoth our poetical Third, as he 
took a sight at his brother officer through his spy- 
glass. 

I heard a deep sigh, and, looking round, I saw 
Adam Stallman standing near me ; but his coun- 
tenance was unmoved ; and, turning on his heel, 
he continued pacing the deck as if he had been an 
unconcerned spectator of what was going on. The 
anchor of the brig was run up to the bows and 
catted ; sail after sail, was dropped from its brails 
and quickly sheeted home; and under a wide 
spread of canvas the gallant craft came standing 
out of the harbour. 

‘‘A prosperous, voyage to you,” shouted Mr. Du 
Fre through his speaking-trumpet, as she passed us. 

He and all the officers took olf their caps. Major 
Horman and the master of the Ariadne did the 
same, and Miss Horman bowed. It was a trying 
moment for her, poor girl ; for in a few minutes he 
whom she had so lately learned to love must quit 
her for an indefinite period, to bufiet the rude 
winds and waves of the ocean, or, perchance, to 
endure the dangers of the fight, — so said our third 
lieutenant, or something to that effect. W e watched 
the Ariadne^ as long as her topsails appeared above 
the horizon, with no little interest, for Mr. Ver- 
non’s sake. He at length came back, after a long 
pull, and wafi for several days somewhat grave and 
abstracted at times; but that mood wore off by 
degrees, and there was a buoyancy in his step, and 
a light in his eye, which showed that he loved, and 
was conscious of being beloved in return. 


NEIL L'.IOCT’S life AT SEA. 


207 


It woul i be impossible to give an account of al] 
the minor adventures I met with in the Mediterra- 
nean; bnt such as I can I will narrate. Captain 
Pojmder was very anxious to make his midship- 
men gentlemen, and to give us a knowledge of 
polite literature, as well as to instruct us in navi- 
gation and seamanship. Accordingly he got a 
Maltese on board to teach us Italian. Poor Signor 
Mezzi had never, I believe, been at sea before; 
and though we tried to make him comfortable, and 
Dicky Sharpe generally resisted the temptation to 
play him tricks — for he was certain to be cobbed 
by the oldsters if he did — fear that his life was 
far from a pleasant one. When we had completed 
onr refit, and had stowed awa}' a supply of pro- 
visions, dispatches were sent on board, and w^e 
were ordered to proceed to Tripoli and Tunis. We 
made a very quick passage to Tripoli, which is the 
capital of the most easterly of the Barbary States. 
It boasts of a castle and port, and has a large har- 
bour, defended by a moat and batteries, capable of 
containing a considerable fieet of merchantmen. 
We remained there a very short time, so I do not 
remember much about the place, nor exactly for 
what purpose we went there. There is another 
town of the same name in Syria, and they are often 
confounded. Leaving Tripoli, we made sail for 
Tunis. It was on this trip, if I remember rightly, 
that a circumstance occurred, which for some time 
appeared wrapped in mystery. The adventure of 
the rib-bone, in which Dick}^ Sharpe played so 
prominent a part, will be remembered. Since that 
time, Ichabod Chissel, the carpenter, had led his 
.iiufortunate boy, Bobby Smudge, a very dog’s life. 
[ fully believe, however, that Master Smudge 
richly deserved every rope’s-ending he got. He 
always dirty : he loved dirt, and nothing could 


208 


SALT water; or, 


keep liiin clean. His honesty, also, was donhtfuL 
While in Malta Harbour, some of onr plate had 
disappeared. Our boy accused Bobby of taking 
it, though he denied this, and, to our surprise con- 
fessed that he knew where it was. 

‘‘ Why, do ye see, sir,” he said to Stallman, whc 
sat as judge on his trial, ‘‘it somehow or other got 
into my tub of hot water, and I never knowed it, 
and when I went to heave the water overboard, I 
then seed the glitter of it in the sea, as it sunk to 
the bottom.” 

The defen je was ingenious, and, as there was no 
witness to prove to the contrary, Bobby escaped 
punishment on that occasion ; though, as he had 
been seen in deep confabulation with an ill-looking 
Jew a short time afterwards, suspicion went mucli 
against him. From bad, things grew to worse with 
Bobby Smudge. Hot a day passed, scarcely an 
hour, that he did not taste the flavour of a rope’s- 
end — most frequently bestowed by his master, the 
carpenter. 

“ You will be the death of me, I know /on will 
Master Chissel,” he groaned out one day, when his 
castigator was even severer than usual. “ I’ll go 
and drown myself, that I will, if this goes on much 
longer — you’ll see if I don’t — won’t stand it, that 
I won’t ;’’ and he blubbered as few have blubbered 
before. 

“ Y^ou will, will you, you young scamp !” ex- 
claimed the carpenter, seizing a ropeVend. “ Take 
that, then, and i*emember when you come back 
from the drowning of yourself. I’ll give you six 
rimes as much.” And poor Bobby gdt it worse 
than ever. 

I think Chissel was very wi-ong in the way he 
treated the poor wretch. Had he been tolerably 
kind and considerate, he might, I am. certain, have 


NEIL e’AECY S LI EE AL SEA. 


209 


worked on his good feelings, and certainly have 
improved him ; but the unhappy lad had, from his 
earliest days, been so constantly knocked about, 
and so accustomed to receive more kicks than half- 
pence, that all his better feelings had been pretty 
well beaten out of him. 

It so happened that one evening, as the ship was 
running pretty fast through the water, and as dark- 
ness was coming rapidly on, a loud splash was 
heard alongside, and that cry, so startling to a sea- 
man’s heart, was raised — “ A man overboard !” 

‘‘ Silence, fore and aft,” sang out Captain Poyn- 
der, who at the same moment appeared on deck. 
‘‘ Does any body see him ?” 

There was no answer. 

Does any body hear him ?” 

There was an ominous silence. A pin might 
have been heard to drop on deck. The life-buoy 
had been let go at the first by the officer of the 
watch. Its signal fire now burned bright astern, 
but no one was seen clinging to it. There could 
be little doubt that the poor fellow, whoever he 
was, had sunk at once. The shm had been rum 
iiiiig at the time a few points on the wind. She 
was now brought close on a wind, and then the 
helm was put down, and she was hove about with 
her head towards the life-buoy. While she was in 
stays, the two quarter-boats were manned and 
lowered. Mr. Yernon jumped into one of them, 
and the master into another ; and as the frigate lost 
her way, they shoved off and pulled in the direc- 
tion of the spot where the man was supposed to 
have fallen. 

“ Who can it be ? Who is missing ?” was asked 
by all hands, while we ’were anxiously looking out 
^•owards the boats, to see if they were picking up 
any body. 


18 » 


210 


SALT water; or, 


When the ship reached the same locality, she 
svas hove-to, and there we remained till the boats, 
having picked up the life-bnoj, returned on hoard. 
They brought, however, too probable a sign of 
some one having been lost — a boy’s hat. It had 
been picked up exactly at the spot where the ship 
was supposed to have been when the alarm ^vas 
first given. The ship’s muster-roll was n<)w called 
over, to ascertain who of the ship’s company was 
missing. One after the other had answered to their 
names ; and it had so nearly reached the end, that 
we began to hope there might be some mistake 
after all, when that of Bobby Smudge was called. 
There was no answer. Boor Bobby ! There could 
be but little doubt that the unfortunate Avretch had 
put his threat of making away with himself into 
execution, rather than longer endure the tyranny 
of Wr. Chissel. I hoped that the carpenter’s ac- 
cusing conscience Avould make him repent of his 
cruelty. This surmise as to the poor boy’s fate 
was confirmed the next niorniiig, when some of his 
clothes were discovered under the forechains. The 
next day the chief conversation among the men 
was about Bobby Smudge’s suicide, and of the 
threats he had uttered of haunting the ship. This 
led to the recounting of similar circumstances ; 
and many a forecastle yarn Avas spun that eA^ening, 
abounding in horrors sufficient to make the hair:^ 
of a less stout-hearted auditory staml on end. 
From the extraordinary remarks 1 heard as I 
passed about the decks, I declared, Avlien I Avent 
to the berth, that I believed that some of the men 
fully expected to see poor Bobby Smudge come in 
at one of the ports and drive all hands out of the 
ship, A seaman will encounter any thing living 
and tangible with a hearty good-Avill ; but he has 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 211 

a mortal antipathy to meet any spirit, black, blue, 
white, or green, from the nether world. 

‘‘ I say, D’Arcy, it would be great fun if we 
could -just manage to give some of these fellows a 
fright,^’ whispered Dicky Sharpe. “ A white sheet 
and a howl would do it. I could manage to imi- 
tate Bobby Smudge’s voice, and I should just like 
to look in on old Chissel when he is taking his first 
snooze. I’d just mutter, ‘ Bobby Smudges ghost’s 
come to fetcn you away, you old sinner,’ and his 
villanous conscience would do the rest.” 

“ Don’t piay any such foolish trick, Dicky,” said 
I ; “ you would certainly be found out, in the first 
place, and get severely punished into the bargain. 
Besides the matter is too serious to be turned into 
a joke. Think of that poor unfortunate -wretch, 
driven to despair, and plunged suddenly into 
another world, through the cruelty and tyranny 
of one who ought to have protected him, and tried 
to make him better.” 

“ But he was plunged into the sea,” said Dicky, 
interrupting me; ‘‘and as for the cruelty he re- 
ceived, I don’t think he was so very much worse 
off than numbers of other fellows in his position.” 

“I tell you, it is not a subject for joking on 
Perhaps poor Bobby Smudge had a mother and 
sisters, who will mourn bitterly when the ship re- 
turns home, and they find he is not in her.” 

“ Dirty drabs, in all probability, who won’t care 
a rap what has become of him,’ persisted the in- 
corr^ble Dicky. 

“ For shame, Sharpe — ^for shame,” said I, think- 
ing how my cousins would grieve for me if I were 
to be lost overboard. I began to feel a strange 
Bort of satisfaction at the idea. Sentiment, or whab 
evei it might be called, was very quickly put to 


212 


SALT water; or, 


fliglit by the slirill sound of the boatswain’s wliislle, 
and the hoarse ciy of “ All hands — shorten sail !” 

Wq were liurrying to our stations aloft as fast as 
our legs could carry us — for the tones in whicli 
the. order was issued showed us that there was not 
a nioinent to be lost — when, just as we were spring- 
ing into the rigging, a squall, which had but the 
nioment before been perceived by the officers of 
the watch, struck the ship. As ill-luck would have 
it, it was the third-lieutenant who had the first 
watch, and he happened to be in a poetical mood, 
and deeply absorbed in composing an ode to 
Queen Dido, or the Dodo — 1 don’t remember 
which it was reported was the case — one or the 
other, I know. The squall was a very heavy one 
— if not a white squall, not inferior to it in strength 
and suddenness. The ship rushed through the 
water, which was lashed in an instant into a sheet 
of foam — ^the masts bent like wands, and looked as 
if they would instantly go by the board. The helm 
was ordered to be put up, but before she could 
iinswer it — stiff as she generally w& — over she 
went, as if she had been a mere skiff, till her yard- 
arms almost touched the water. It appeared as if 
she would never right herself again. Then many 
a stout heart quailed, and many a brave man gave 
himself up for lost ; but, dreadful as was the scene, 
discipline triumphed speedily over all unworthy 
fears. Some of the ports were open, and the water 
rushed through them in torrents. Such was the 
case with the one in our berth. Poor Signor Mezzi, 
our Italian master, was sitting there. Never was 
a poor wretch more completely horrified. He gave 
np all for lost, and fancied that very moment the 
ship and all in her were going to the bottom. The 
assistant-surgeon and captain’s clerk, who were at 
the time in the berth, each seized a pillow from 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


213 


fche hammocks, which had just before been pipeqf 
down, and, cramming ' them into the port with 
tolerable effect, stopped the gush of water; but 
terror had too completely mastered the poor 
Dominie to allow him to observe what was going 
forward. He shrieked out for mercy from every 
saint in the calendar, and entreated one or all of 
them to carry him on shore, even if it was but to 
the sandy coast of Africa. “HA/ misericordia.^ 
misericordia^ misericordia T was the burden of 
his plaint. 

“A’ impossibile^ signor ; if you do go to the bot- 
tom, heretics though we are, you will be in very 
goodly company,” exclaimed Tourniquet. ‘‘ And 
then think of the magnificent feast we shall make 
for the fishes. Let that be your consolation.” 

But poor Signor Mezzi refused to be comforted 
even by such a prospect ; and even our medico 
himself, when he found the ship still remaining in 
her unusual position, and heard the uproar going 
on overhead, began to entertain some very disagree- 
able doubts as to the possibility of the event to 
which he was alluding actually occurring, and 
looked very blue about the gills; whereat little 
Scribble, the clerk, laughed heartily at him, and 
seated himself on the table, with his feet on the 
side of tlie ship, affirming that he was not afraid, 
and was as contented and happy as ever — the 
truth being, not that the young donkey was a bit 
more brave than the other* twoj but that he had 
not the sense to know the danger he was in, and 
that not a seaman on board but saw that the next 
moment might be his last. Tourniquet had not 
the heart to move and give Scribble a thrashing, 
or he would have done so. But to return on deck. 
The instant the squall struck the ship. Captain 
Poynder hastened from his cabin, and, seizing his 


214 


SALT water; or, 


speaking-trumpet, in a calm tone issued the neces 
sary orders. 

“Down, every youngster, from the rigging. 
Clue up — ^liaul down — let fly of all !” 

It was too late ; before the words were out of his 
mouth, the ship was over on her beam-ends, and 
lay like a log, neitlier sails nor rudder having 
longer power over her. To describe the wild hor- 
ror of the scene would be almost impossible. The 
rent sails flashing and flapping in the gale — ^the 
ropes lashing furiously, as if in an attempt to seize 
some one within their deadly coils — every timber 
uuivering and groaning — the wind roarii^, and 
the foam -in thick sheets flying over us. Though 
the helm, as I have said, was hard up, still she lay 
in the trough of the sea, without a hope of once 
more rising. 

“ Send the carpenter and his crew aft, with their 
axes,” shouted the captain. 

Chissel and his mates quickly obeyed the sum- 
mons, for he had seen from the first that his 
services would, too probably, be required. 

“ Stand by, to cut away the masts,” added Cap- 
tain Poynder. 

It was a melancholy alternative, but the only 
one to save the ship from foundering. Afterwards 
we must trust to our anchors ; and, if they failed 
to hold with the wind as it then was, we could not 
fail of being driven .on the inhospitable coast of 
Africa. And who could tell how many might 
reach the shore alive! — ^jierhaps none. "The up 
lifted axes gleamed in the hands of Chissel and his 
mates, as they stood round the mizenmast ; otliei-s 
were sent to cut away the shrouds, and clear the 
wreck of the mast as it fell. Once more Captain 
Poynder raised his trumpet to his lips ; it was to 
give the dire ordei-s to cut, when, at that moment. 


NEIL D'AECY'S life AT SEA. 


215 


fche ship, with a violent jerk, righted herself, and, 
epeedil}^ answering to the helm, away she flew be- 
fore the wind. As such a course would very 
quickly have brought us up, sail was taken ofi* her ; 
and then, merely under her spanker and fore- stay- 
sail, she w^as brought to the wind, for it was dis- 
covered that the bowsprit was badly sprung, and 
that the topsail sheets were carried away. Hap- 
pily the squall, having vented its fury on our 
heads, quickly passed over, and we were left with 
much less wind than before. 

“ This is all that young beggar, Bobby Smudge’s 
doing. I’ll warrant,’’ I heard Hed Grummit, a top- 
man, exclaim, as he came down from aloft. “ I 
never knowed a chap of that sort who went for to 
go for to drown hisself, if he threatened to do mis- 
chief, but found means to do it. I knowed it would 
be so from the first, and we shall be lucky if worse 
doesn’t come of it. 

I tried to expostulate with the man, for whom 1 
had a liking, for he was an honest fellow ; but to 
no purpose ; he still persisted in the belief that 
poor Bobby, who, while alive, had never done 
anybody harm, was destined to work us all sorts 
of mischief. 

Every thing had been made as snug^as circum- 
stances would allow ; the watch belo^v had been 
piped down, and had turned in ; and silence reigned 
on board, and on the face of the ocean around us. 
It had. been my watch on deck, and I was just 
about being relieved, when the silence was broken 
by a loud, unearthly cry, and the carpenter rushed 
on deck, in his shirt, his hair standing on end, and 
his eye-balls starting from their sdbkets. Had not 
several men laid hold of him, I believe he would 
have thrown himself overboard. He was carried 
back to his cabin, and tlie doctor was summoned. 


216 


SALT WATER; OR, 


All Chissel could saj was, “ Bobby Smudge 1 
Bobby Smudge ! you young villain, be off with 
you !” The doctor gave him some stuff* or other, 
and the carpenter went off* into a sound sleep ; 
but a man was ordered to sit up by his side, and 
watch him. 

I^ow,” thought I, ‘‘this has been one of Dicky 
Sharpe’s tricks, and all my good advice lias been 
thrown away.” But when I looked into Dicky’s 
hammock, he was sleeping away with such un- 
feigned soundness that I could scarcely fancy he 
had played any trick ; and the next morning he 
assured me, on his word of honour, that he knew 
nothing whatever about the matter. I had nevei 
known Dicky to tell an untruth, and I felt very 
sure that he would not conceal any thing he had 
done from me ; indeed, the great pleasure he had 
in playing any mischievous prank was, to tell me 
of it afterwards, if I happened not to be a partaker 
of it, — a very rare occurrence, by-the-by. 

“ Suppose you had played your trick on old 
Chissel, and what he has seen was really an evil 
spirit, how very dreadful it would have been for 
you to have met the unnameable thing at his bed- 
side,” said I. 

“Oh! don’t talk of such a thing,” exclaimed 
Dicky, shuddering. “ I am sure I will never again 
think of carrying out such a joke as I contem- 
plated. The idea is too frightful.” 

I advised him not ; and, after talking the subject 
over, and turning it in every way, we came to the 
conclusion that, as no one else was likely to have 
tried to frighten old Chissel, if he had not really 
seen a ghost, his terror had been the result of his 
own evil conscience. 

“Yes; it is a dreadful thing to have a bad con- 
science,” said Dicky, with a sigh. “Do you 


NEIL d’akCY’S life AT SEA. 


217 


know, D’Arcy, I sometimes wish that I liad not 
played so many wild pranks in my life. I know 
•that they will some tiine or other bring me into 
trouble ; and yet, when the fit seizes me, 1 cannot 
help it. I wish that you would remind me of my 
good resolutions when I next propose any thing of 
the sort.” 

I promised that I would, but suggested that un- 
less he had some higher motive tlian the fear of 
being brought into trouble, he would, in all prob- 
ability, continue as great a Pickle as ever, if lie 
did not go on from bad to worse ; indeed, I read 
my chum a very severe lecture, which he took 
with perfect composure, feeling at the time that he 
fully deserved it, though I fear that he was not in 
the end very much the better for my sage advice. 

We were busy all day repairing damages as well 
as we could at sea ; but it was found that they were 
so considerable that the captain resolved to return 
to Malta, instead of pursuing our course to Tunis. 
While the work was going forward, a man in the 
forechains discovered a jacket and waistcoat, which 
were known to have belonged to Bobby Smudge. 
This was considered still stronger proof that the 
poor lad had destroyed himself, as no doubt he had 
hung them there before jumping into the sea. Sea- 
men are certainly the most superstitious beings 
alive, for this trifling matter made them talk the 
whole evening after they had knocked off work 
about Bobby and his ways, and scarcely one but 
believed that his spirit would haunt the ship as 
long as she remained in commission. The crippled 
state of the ship prevented our making much sail 
on her, and as we had frequently baffling winds, 
our voyage to Malta was considerably prolonged. 

Dii’ty jBob, as poor Bobby Smudge was generally 
called, excited far more interest after his death than 
19 


218 


SALT water; or, 


he had done during liis lifetime', as is not unfie 
c|uently the case with much greater men. The 
night succeeding the squall passed off, as fai as 1 
knew, quietly enough ; but the next morning^ I saw 
several groups of men talking together, as if some- 
thing mysterious had occurred. 

“i knowed it would be so,” said ITed Trunnion, 
as I passed by. He was as bold a topman as ever 
stepped. “1 knowed the little chap wouldn’t let 
us alone, after he’d given Mr. Chissel a taste of his 
quality. Ho, no ; depend on’t, he’ll haunt the ship 
for many a long day, if he don’t manage to run 
her ashore, or to send her to Davy Jones’s lockei 
outright.” 

“ w hat’s that about ?” I asked, for I suspected 
the observation was intended for my ears. 

‘‘Why, sir,” said Tom Barlow, another topman, 
“ Dirty I>ob (saving your presence) has been aboard 
again, a playing on his pranks, and many of us 
seed him as clear as we see you.” 

“ Honsense, man,” said I. “ It' you mean Bobby 
Smudge, he’s snug enough at the bottom of the 
sea, fffty miles astern of us, by this time ; besides, 
if any of you saw him, why did you not catch 
him?” 

“ It wasn’t ’xactly him we saw, sir,” blurted out 
Hed. “ It was his spirit or ghost like, and a chap 
might just as well try to catch one of them things 
as to o’ripe an eel wdtii greased ffngers.” 

“ liow do you know’ it was his spirit though ?” I 
asked ; for 1 suspected that the men had been 
working on each other’s imagination till all fancied 
they had seen what perliaps only )ne had dreamed 
of ~ 

“ Why, sir,” replied Tom Barlow, with a hitch 
to his waistband, “ we knowed it was him, because 
it was as like him as he could stare, only a good 


NEIL d’aeCY’s life AT SEA. 


219 


deal blacker and dirtier even than lie was in liis 
lifetime. It liad just gone two bells in the middle 
watch, when three or four of us who was awake 
saw him as plainly as we do you, sir, now — creep- 
ing about for all the world like a serpent, in and 
out among the hammocks. It was more, just then, 
than any one of us wished to do, to speak to him ; 
but. thinks I, there can’t be any harm telling him 
to cut his stick, just civilly like ; so I lifts up my 
head, and sings out, ‘ Be otf, you dirty son of a sea 
cook !’ But scarcely was the words out of my 
mouth, than he was away like a shot up the main- 
hatchway, and through one of the ports, or right 
through the bottom of the ship, for whal I knowed, 
for I couldn’t see, you may suppose. All the 
others who saw him said, too, there was a strong 
smell of sulphur, wherever he’d been, and that he 
vanished away in a flame of tire ; but I can’t 
’xactly swear to that myself.” 

I laughed outright at the absurdity of the story, 
and was more convinced than ever that the men 
had allowed their imaginations to be worked up 
to a pitch which would make them believe any 
thing. 

Dicky Sharpe and I talked the matter over, and 
agreed not to say any thing about it, as, w^ere the 
circumstance to get to the ears of the captain, it 
would certainly make him very angry. 

r thought we should hear no more about the ‘ 
matter; but two days after this I found the people 
more busy than ever talking about Bobby Smudge’s 
ghost, lumbers declared they had seen it ; some 
described it as having one shape, some another. 
Hot a few gave it a tail, and horns, and fiery eyes. 
All described it as black ; and several were ready 
to affirm on oath that it smelt strongly of sulphur 
and other horrible odours. At length* many of the 


220 


SALT WATP:R; OR; 


men showed a great unwillingness t' go beloWj 
and to turn into their hammocks. 

Old Chissel had become a completely altered 
character. His conscience told him that he was 
the cause of poor Bobby’s death. He grew thin 
and pale ; his voice was no longer heard in loud 
dispute with his brother officer, the boatswain, and 
even his manner was softened towards his inferiors. 
The men remarked the change ; and all argued 
that the ghost liad done him some good at all 
events, though it certainly confirmed them in their 
belief of its existence. Hight after night, no 
sooner was it dark, and the watch below turned in, 
than Dirty Bob’s ghost was sure to appear to some 
one or other ; till, at length, the gun-room officers 
heard of the matter, and ultimately the captain 
himself was informed of it. 

At the same time a curious circumstance oc- 
curred. Every morning one or other of the messes 
had to complain that their bread-bags had been 
rifled, and different sorts of eatables had disap- 
peared in a most unaccountable manner. Hone 
of the men suggested for a moment that the ghost 
had any thing to do with the matter; for what 
could a ghost want witli biscuit, bacon, or cheese ; 
but Captain Poynder, who at length heard of this 
also, had, it appeared, formed a different notion on 
the subject. 

Two of the marines — steady old hands — who 
’’eve or disbelieve in ghosts or 



carnal or spiritual enemies in 


any shape or of any colour, as their superior officers 
might command them, were sent for into the cabin. 
What their orders were I do not know ; but one of 
them, Jabez Cartridge, was placed that night as 
sentry on the lower deck. 

The first watch had nearly run out, and Jabez, 


NEIL d'ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


221 


who had his eyes about him in every direction, had 
seen nothing of the ghost, wdien, as it had just gone 
seven bells, he fancied that he observed a dark 
object gliding about under the hammocks. He 
stood as upright and stiff as his own ramrod. So 
immovable was he, that any one might have sup- 
posed him asleep on his post ; but his little black 
eyes were not the less vigilant. The dark object 
moved slowly and cautiously on till it reached the 
lockers, where the men’s mess things were kept. 

Jabez saw that it had hands, and, by the peculiar 
movement of those hands, he came to the conclusion 
that it had pockets. Still, a ghost might have 
hands, and trousers too, for what he knew to the 
contrary. To convince himself, he sprang forward, 
and the ghost, with an unearthly shriek, took to 
dight; but Jabez was too., quick for the phantom, 
and, grasping him tight, he sung out, “ I don’t care 
if you be a ghost or not, but fve got you, at all 
events.” 

“ Oh let me go — ^let me go, and I’ll lie snug and 
quiet till we get into harbour, and then I’ll leave 
the ship, and never come back — that I won’t,” 
answered the ghost, in piteous accents. 

But Jabez was inexorable, and di-agging him to 
the sentry’s lantern, by its sickly light discovered 
features which belonged to no other than Bobby 
Smudge. 

Why where have you been, you young scoun 
drel all the time?” asked Jabez. 

‘‘ In the coal-hole,” blubbered out poor Bobby, 
“ I never thought of doing harm to no one ; but I 
can’t live without eating. Oh ! let me go back — 
oh ! do, now.” 

‘‘ My order is to take you to the captain,” replied 
Jabez, unmoved ; and forthwith to the captain’s 
cabin the unhappy Smudge was led captive. 


222 


SALT WATER; OR, 


He was soon, however, sent out again under 
charge of the sentry, and kept in durance vile tih 
the nexft morning. 

After breakfast; the men were called aft ; and the 
captain appeared on the quarter-deck with Bobby, 
in the same garb and condition in which he had 
been captured. He was truly a wretched object, 
as he stood trembling, and blubbering, and covered 
with coal-dust and dirt, before all the crew. 

“ I have called you aft, my men, to . show you 
how foolish you have been to allow yourselves to 
be frightened by the equally foolish trick of this 
miserable lad,” said Captain Poynder. “ I am not 
angry with you ; but I wish you to learn, from this 
event, that all the ghosts you are ever likely to see, 
will turn out to be no more ghosts than is this poor 
fellow at the present moment. He confesses, that 
to avoid punishment, and in the hope of ultimately 
escaping from the ship, he devised the scheme for 
making it appear that he had destroyed hirnself. 
He managed, it seems, to get a lump of coal in the 
forechains, and after heaving it into the water, and 
crying oiit that a man was overboard, to get in at 
a port, and to stow himself away in the coal-hole. 
Trusting to the superstition and folly which the 
people liave exhibited, he thought he might ven- 
ture out at night to supply himself with food. His 
plan succeeded ; and, had the story not come to my 
ears, I concluded he would have kept up the farce 
till the ship got into port. I ask, my men, do you 
think it possible, that God, who made this mighty 
universe, and governs it by just and wise laws, 
would allow a mischievous imp, who could do no 
harm while alive, to return to earth, merely for the 
Bake of wreaking his own petty malice, or for troub- 
ling and frightening a number of grown men, such 
as you are. Tc believe such a thing, is botb wicked 


NFJL •d’ARCY’S life AT SEA 223 

and absurd ; for it is mistrusting God’s wisdom aiul 
providence ; and I hope, when you come cal inly 
to consider the matter over, you will think as I do. 
I have another word to say, both to petty-officers 
and men. The lad must have received much cruel 
treatment to make him attempt to escape from it 
by the expedient he followed. Kemember, for the 
future, I will have no bullying. The discipline ot 
the ship will be kept up far better by strict justice. 
Had it not been for this, I should have punished 
the lad severely for the prank he has played. As 
it is, he has pretty well suffered already. But 
beware : — if anybody attempt to imitate his exam- 
ple, he will find I do not overlook the matter so 
easily. How pipe down.” 

The captain’s speech did much good in several 
ways. It put a stop to any outrageous bullying for 
some time ; for the men knew perfectly well that 
what he threatened he would effectually carry out. 
It also tended to cure some of them of their super- 
stitious belief in ghosts and goblins. 

“ Well I never heard the like afor,” said Tom 
Barlow, as he and his messmate, Hed Trunnion, were 
talking over the affair of the previous day. “ The 
skipper says as how there is no such thing as ghosts ; 
and I suppose, seeing as how he has as much laming 
as a parson, he know''s all about it. It don’t come 
within my categor^r, though.” 

What he says is ali diipshape,” replied Hed. 
“ I never yet met the man who really did see a 
ghost though I’ve met scores w^ho’ve heard of some 
one who’s seen them, and for that matter come to 
fisty cuffs with them ; and certain sure I never seed 
one myself till that young cheese-nibble made him- 
self into one. Then, if he hadn’t been found out, 
I’d have staked my davy that he was one in re- 
ality.” 


224 


SALT water; ok, 


That is what the captain says,” I remarked, as 
I stopped a moment. “ All the ghosts which have 
been seen will turn out to be only shams, after all.” 
But enough of Bobby Smudge and his ghost. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

r.ETTER FROM MY UNOLE — CHASE OF MYERS — SUPPOSED LOPS 

IN PORTLAND RACE — GOOD ADVICE — DICKY SHARPE AND 

THE LIONS— THE ARIADNE MISSING MR. VERNON’S ANX- 

IETY. 

Two days after this, much shorn of the pride and 
beauty with which we left it, we entered Malta 
harbour. As may be supposed, Mr. Yernon hast- 
ened to the post-office as soon as he could get on 
shore. I accompanied him, with a note Captain 
Poynder had to send to the Grover nor. His eye 
brightened as it glanced at the superscription of a 
lefter which was handed to him. He read it over 
eagerly. 

‘‘ I hope, sir, that you have good accounts from 
four friends?” I said. 

“ They have had most provoking light winds 
and calms ; and, when this letter was written, had 
not made good half the distance. Heaven grant 
that the Ariadne may have escaped any squall 
such as crippled us.” 

‘‘ Indeed, sir, I trust so,” I replied ; but, as ht 
again turned to his letter, I made no further re- 
mark. I found a letter also for myself, to my no 
little surprise, for I thought no one would take the 
trouble of writing to me. I did not deserve a let- 
ter, I felt, for I had not written a line to any one 
since I left England. It was from my uncle, j 


NEIL d’AEGY’S life AT SEA. 225 

put it iu my pocket, to read at my leisure when I 
returned on board. It ran as follows : — 

“ My dear Nephew, — As a word or two now 
and then from those who are deeply interested in 
your welfare will but tend to keep them in y : ur 
remembrance, and to cheer your spirits, should 
you find yourself surrounded by troubles or hard- 
ships, your aunt and I hope occasionally to send 
you a sheet of paper, witn an account of what is 
going on at home ; and I must beg you in return 
to let us know how the world speeds with you. 
Yonr aunt and cousins are well, and one day passes 
so like another, that I have little to tell of them. 
Terence grows apace, and seems resolved to go to 
sea. I will not balk the lad of his wish when he 
is big enough ; and I hope better times will come 
in the navy, both for you and him, than I have 
seen for some time past. I have given the cutter 
plenty of work, and have made several captures ; 
but the prize I most covet, that villain Myers, has 
again slipped through my fingers. I must tell you 
all about it. It is supposed, indeed, that he has at 
length gone to render up his final account iu 
another world ; but even now I can scarcely be- 
lieve but that he will yet turn up somewhere oi 
another in this. I had received notice that he had 
been again seen in England, and that he had got 
command of a cutter of about sixty tons, — a very 
fast craft, which nothing could come up to ; so, of 
course, I resolved to try and catch him. I soon 
found that he was visiting his old haunts. I con- 
clude that he fancied no one would believe he 
would have the audacity to go there after all the 
crimes he had committed, and that therefore no 
one would be on the watch for him. He had suc- 
ceeded in running two cargoes, and all the goods 
16 


226 


SALT water; or, 


were got up to London. He had gone away for a 
third, and 1 learned that preparations were made 
to receive it in West Ba}^, not far from Beere. For 
two days and nights we had been cruising about, 
just far enough out not to be seen from the shore, 
in the best spot for cutting him off, when it came 
on to blow very hard from the north-west. It had 
blown long enough to kick up a heavy sea, when, 
just as it had gone three bells, in the middle watch, 
we caught sight of a cutter standing in for the 
shore, and going along at a tremendous rate, not 
the eighth of a mile to the eastward of us. We 
wei’e on the larboard tack ; but we were instantly 
about, and in chase of her. We could just make 
her out through the darkness ; but I do not think 
many eyes could have seen her, but those long ac- 
customed to such work as ours. It was some time 
before she percei\"ed us ; for, from the way we 
were standing, we were end on to her. As soon, 
however, as Ae saw us, she kept away, and off she 
went like a shot before the wind. We packed 
every thing on the cutter she could carry, and 
rather more canvas, as you may suppose, than 
under ordinary circumstances I should like to set ; 
but the stranger, at all events, seemed resolved not 
to be outdone; and though by this time it was 
blowing half a gale of wind, had not only his whole 
mainsail, but his squaresail and gaff-topsail all set. 
This circumstance made me pretty certain that 
Myers was on board, for he knew well that a halter 
would be his lot if he was caught. I think he 
would have done better by keeping on a wind, for 
before the wind her larger size gave the Serpent a 
decided advantage over him. After an nour’s 
chase, if we had not overhauled him, he certainly 
had r ot increased his distance from us, and we had 
great hopes, should the wind increase, or the sea 


NEIL d'ARCY’S life AT SE.4 


227 


^et up any more, that we sliould at last catch him. 
It was a trial of the strenglh of our sticks and the 
goodness of our rigging. I had every confidence 
in ours ; but I also knew that the smuggler would 
not fail to have got a tough stick for a mast, and 
sound rigging also. Another half-hour passed, and 
Hanks agreed with me, that we were certainly 
gaining on the chase. To give us a chance of 
winging him, we now ran a gun forward ; hut with 
the neavy sea there was, ana the way^ both vessels 
were pitching into it, there was very little proba- 
bility tlia^ we should do so. We, fiowevei> fired 
several times; but with no efiect. Only think! 
the fellow had the audacity to run out a couple of 
guns, and to return the fire. To be sure, it was 
Ins only" chance of escaping ; for if he could man- 
age to knock away any of our spars, he would, 
he thought, show us a clean pair of heels. His 
practice was not a bit better than ours ; indeed, it 
would only have been by" chance that a shot could 
have hit its mark. However, we both of us kept 
blazing away" at each other with hearty good-will. 
In the mean time the wind and sea, already high, 
were getting up very much. At any other time 
I should have hove the cutter to ; but now, follow 
I must ; and I hoped, from our greater power, we 
should be able to hold out the longest, and that at 
last the smuggler must give in. We were now 
nearing Portland race, and never in my life had 1 
observed the sea running higher on it than it now 
did. ‘ The fellows will never attempt to crors it,' 
observed Hanks : ‘ theyfil be swamped if they do 
and if they haul up to round it, Ave shall catch 
them to a certainty".’ ‘ Cross it they will tiy, at all 
events,’ I replied ; ‘ they can never carry canvas 
on a wind, in a breeze, and Avith a sea like this. 
See. they" are standing into the very thickest of th^ 


228 


SALT water; ok, 


breakers.’ Sure enough there was the cutter ap- 
proaching the most dangerous part of the race. 
The spring-tide was making down, and the wind, 
meeting it, threw the foaming breakers higher up 
than usual. Still it was possible, if every thing 
was battened down, that the cutter might shove 
through them. We all held our breath. If she 
got througli, we also must follow. We had every 
thing secured, and were better prepared than she 
was. On she went — her white sails appearing 
against the dark sky — ^her whole hull enveloped in 
foam. For some seconds she pushed on bravely. 
I never took my eye olf her. Suddenly ‘the white 
canvas seemed to bend her low down — the break- 
ers danced on as before. I rubbed my eyes, but 
without avail : the sail had disappeared. There 
was a cry of horror on board the cutter, but no 
shout of triumph, though our long-sought-for foe 
was no more. He and every body on board must 
have been swallowed up by those foaming billows. 
We had barely time to shorten sail and to haul off, 
to avoid sharing the same fate; for I scarcely 
think, on that day, that even we could liave run 
through the race. Some days after this I was 
on shore on Portland Bill, and the lightliouse- 
keeper told me that lie had witnessed the catas- 
trophe. He told me, also, that several planks and 
spars had shortly after come on shore, and with 
these the body of a man. When, however, lie 
went down to the beach to look for the body, he 
could nowhere find it ; so he concluded that it had 
been swept away by the tide. Such is the fate of 
the smuggler Myers, and certainly no one evei 
deserved it more richly. I have lio other events 
to narrate. 

‘‘ I should like to give you some good advice^ 
N*eil; but I am so Tittle accustomed to lecture 


NEIT. d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


229 


at liers, I cannot find words to do it. I will try, 
however. Never forget that you were sent into 
this world to do your duty to Heaven and to man ; 
not to amuse yourself, but to obey God’s laws — to 
prepare for another wmrld, which will last forever. 
Kemember always that this world is only a place 
of trial — of probation. Trials of all sorts are sent 
on purpose to prove us. When man, through 
disobedience, fell, and sin entered the world, the 
devil was allowed to have power over him. He 
would have gained entire power, and man in his 
fallen state would have been inextricably lost for 
ever ; but Christ in his mercy inteidcred ; and bv 
his obedience, his sufierings on earth— by his death 
on the cross — was accepted by God as a recom- 
pense for all sinners who believe in Him. By his 
resurrection, he became a mediator for us, showing 
us also that we too shall rise, like him, from the 
dead, in the bodies in which we died. Thus a 
pure and just God, who cannot otherwise than 
hate sin, was able at the same time to show forth 
his justice and his mercy, — to punish those who 
go on in their wickedness, but to pardon those who 
believe in their great Mediator and repent of their 
sins. I remind you of those important truths, Neil, 
because I know all men are too apt to forget them. 
Endeavour always to remember them, and I am 
sure that they will keep j^ou from evil more than 
any other safeguards which I can offer you. I do 
not tell you, my boy, not to do this, or not to do 
that ; but I remind you that Christ came down on 
earth, on account of the sins of mankind, to teach 
men his laws ; that he sulfered pain, toil, and dis- 
grace, and a dreadful death ; and that, in gratitude 
to him, we are bound to do our utmost to obey 
him. Bead your Bible constantly — not now and 
then, but every day ; learn what his will is, and do 


230 


SALT WATER; OR, 


your best to follow it. Kenieinbei*, also, that the 
devil is ever at your elbow, eiicleavoiiriiig to per- 
suade ycu not to follow it — telling you that sin is 
Bweet and pleasant — that God will not be angry 
with you if you sin a little — that hell is far on — 
that God would not be so cruel as to send you 
there, and that it is cowardly to be afraid. Oh, my 
boy, let me entreat you to pi’ay to God for grace to 
enable you to resist those temptations. Come they 
will, assuredly, and never trust in your own 
strength to resist them. Christ will give you 
strength. Fly to him in prayer. Go to your 
Bible — read that, and you will be strong to resist 
all temptation's. Of course, never mind what your 
companions may say or think on the subject. 1 
ask, are you to be biassed by the opinions of poor, 
weak, sinful mortals, or to obey the laws of the 
great all-powerful God, who made the whole uni- 
verse — ^the innumerable globes you see in the 
sky — the world we inhabit, with all its wonders — 
man, with his proud intellect — the animals of the 
forest, the birds of the air, the creeping things in- 
numerable, scarcely the nature of one of which 
you can comprehend — of the merciful Saviour, 
who died for yoxi, and who is eager to preserve 
you and all who believe ’on him ? Still I know 
that, with a full consciousness of God's greatness 
and goodness — of Chi'ist’s mercy — man is so weak 
that nothing but constant prayer for grace will en- 
able him to keep in the right way. I feel, my dear 
nephew, that I could not write so much on this all- 
important subject; but still I must conclude. 
Keep my letter ' by you, and look at it at times 
when you are inclined to forget its advice. Youi 
•lunt joins me in earnest prayer for your welfare. 

“Your affectionate uncle, 

“ Terence O’Flaiierty.” 


XEIL d’aRCY’s life AT SEA. 


23i 


I am most grateful to my kind uncle for having 
?ent this letter to me. It Lad a very beneficial ef- 
fect on my mind. I do not mean to say that at the 
time I received it I thought as seriously of its con- 
tents as I did afterwards ; yet I tried somewhat to 
follow its advice, — not as I might have done ; but 
I read my Bible more frequently, and prayed more 
earnestly than I had ev^er done before. I do not 
mean to say that I knelt down by the side of my 
hammock to pray, as those on shore are able to do 
by the side of their beds ; but I found many an 
opportunity to ofifer up my prayers during a watch 
on deck at night ; and on those occasions I felt 
more freedom and earnestness. Also I often 
would do so after I had turned into my hammock, 
and before I turned out in a morning. I own that 
when I was first observed to read my Bible I was 
frequently called by my messmates a Methodist 
and a saint, and Dicky Sharpe was especially libe- 
ral in his application of such epithets to me ; but 
Adam Stallman soon silenced him, as well as 
others. 

“ Let me ask you. Master Dicky, what you mean 
by a Methodist ?” he inquired. “ If it applies to a 
man who acts the part of a consistent Christian, 
and does his duty methodically — with system, and 
not by fits and starts — it is a very high compliment 
you pay him ; and as for the term saint, let me as- 
sure you that those who do not become saints have 
their souls in a very perilous condition.” 

These remarks of Stallman’s though my young 
messmate tried to look unconcerned and indinerent 
to them at the time, had, I believe, a very bene- 
ficial effect on him. I will not, however, dwell 
longer on this subject, important though it is, or 
my readers may declare that, instead of writing 
my adventures for their amusement, I am giving 


282 


SALT WATER; OR, 


them a book of seinnons. I will not do that ; but 
still I must urge them to pay attention to what I 
have said — ^never to be ashamed of their religion 
far, far rather to be proud of it, and ever to make 
(rod’s word the rule of their conduct. To return 
to my narrative. The repairs of the frigate hav- 
ing been completed, we once more put to sea, and 
made sail for Tripoli and Tunis. Our poor Italian 
master. Signor Mezzi, liad declared most j)Ositively 
that nothing would ever again tempt him to venture 
on that treacherous ocean ; but a few weeks on the 
smooth water of Malta harbour had wondeiTully 
reassured him, and he continued therefore with us, 
to our somewhat problematical benefit. Nothing 
occurred on our passage to those places ; but on 
our return we had put on board by our Consul- 
General a young Hon and lioness to convey to 
Malta, on their way to England. A dozen poor 
sheep were sent at the same time to feed the 
beasts. We had before this a cow and a goat, and 
some pigs and dogs ; and it was curious to observe 
the effect which the arrival of the fierce monarchs 
of the forest had on them. Neither the goats, who 
had the range of the deck, nor the dogs, would go 
near where th^y were, but gave them a very wide 
berth whenever they had to pass tliem. At last, 
however, as the fierce-looking strangers appeared 
to be, in reality, very quiet, well-disposed monsters, 
they were allowed to roam about the deck in the 
day-time, and seemed to gain the confidence of 
their fellow-quadrupeds. Of course tliey were not 
allowed to enter the captain’s cabin, and tlie sentry 
had orders, if by chance they should attempt to 
intrude, to flash the pan of his pistol in their faces 
to drive them away. Whether from inquisitive 
motives or not, I do not know, but one morning 


NEIL d’AKCY S- LIFE AT SEA. 


233 


iiej would insist, whenever the door was opened, 
Dll endeavouring to force their way in. 

“ Be off, ye bastes, or Fll be after reporting ye 
for insubordination,” said the sentry, Pat Hoolan, 
a countryman of mine. 

lie gave one of them at the same time a hearty 
kick ; but the beast turned I'ound and showed so 
tbrmidable a set of teeth that he began to tremble 
in his shoes. Off they trotted, however, but soon 
again returned to the charge. Pat, in the mean 
time, had remembered his orders, and as soon as 
they came near, he snapped his pistol directlv in 
their faces. The sudden explosion had an eftect 
no one expected ; and, bounding furiously along 
tlie deck, they sprung overl)oard through the bridle- 
}>ort. 

‘‘A man overboard — no, it’s tlie bastes, I mane,” 
sung out Pat Hoolan, the marine. “ Arrah ! how’ll 
they ever be caught again ?” 

As soon as I saw wdiat had occurred, 1 jumped 
into one of the quarter-boats, followed by Dicky 
Sliarpe and several men; and, as the ship was 
going very slowdy through the wuiter, we were at 
once lowered and in chase of the lions. They 
swam bravely tow’ards the coast of Africa ; though, 
as it could now be but just seen as a faint blue line 
from the deck, I doubt that tliey would have had 
any chance of reaching it. We were soon up tu 
them, and Dicky, seizing them by their tufted 
taWs, we without difficulty towed them back again, 
they looking, as he justly observed, much more 
sheepish than lionish. They were then hoists d up 
and admonished by Mr. Trundle to behave fhem- 
Belves better for the future. The admonition was, 
I am sorry to say, thrown away. The sheep in- 
tended for tlieir support, were kept in a pen con- 
structed with a grating between two guns on the 


m 


SALT WATER; OR, 


maindeck. As may be supposed, the lions were 
not long in discovering their storeroom, and, like 
greedy children, were unwilling to wait till the 
provisions were served out to them. Wagging 
their tails and looking quite innocent as they trot- 
ted about the decks like two overgrown poodle 
j)uppies, as Dicky Sharpe called them, before any 
one could stop them, they simultaneously bounded 
into the pen, and each seizing an unfortunate 
sheep, jumped out again, no doubt intending to 
enjoy them d la fete chainjxtre. I, with others 
who were standing near, rushed forward, with 
sticks and whatever we could snatch up, to rescue 
the domesticated animals from the savage beasts. 
They grinned and snarled horribly as we ap- 
proached, nor did they seem at all inclined to give 
up their prey without a fight for it. We, however, 
soon taught them that, though they uiight be lords 
of tlie forest, we were masters on board ship, and 
compelled them to quit their hold of the sheep. 
Their claws and jaws had, however, committed 
too much damage to the poor animals, and it was 
found necessary to kill them to put them out of 
their suflfering. One might have supposed that 
the lesson we had received of the savage nature of 
the beasts would have taught us to keep them in 
future more under control ; but Dicky Sharpe, at 
all events, seemed to fancy that he might play 
with them as he would with a couple of poodles. 
One afternoon he found the sheepskin, which 
served as a couch to JS^eptime, the captain’s New- 
foundland dog. Without further consideration he 
threw it over his head and shoulders, and crept up 
on all-fours to where the lions were lying down. 
Dicky kept crawling about round and round ; but 
the lion& had learned that it was somewhat dan- 
Igerous to steal mutton, and at first took no notice 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 235 

of him ; but the temptation was strong, and theif 
natural ^propensities soon got tlie better of their 
discretion. With a terrific roar they both sprung 
on him at once. I thought that it was all up with 
Dicky, and so did he himself. Fortunately, the 
skin was loose, and the lions made off with it, while 
he sunk down fiat on the deck, escaping with only 
a scratch on the shoulder and a torn jacket. 

‘‘ Well, sir,” said Mr. Du Pre, who had witness- 
ed the latter part of the scene, “ you might have 
felt very like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you 
look, in truth, far more like a small donkey. I^ow, 
go below, and get the doctor to look at your hurt : 
you have had a lesson which you will not forget.” 

He spoke thus severely in perfect kindness to 
poor Dicky, in the hopes of inducing him to play 
fewer foolish tricks. He scarcely hoped to cure 
him altogether of his propensity. Master Sharpe 
was very slightly hurt, bpt very much frightened, 
and his nervous system had received such a shock 
that the doctor ordered him into his hammock and 
gave him a composing draught. Next day he was 
able, however, to go about his duty ; but he was 
much more serious in his manner than I had ever 
before seen him. 

“ Do you know, D’Arcy, I really think I must 
turn over a new leaf,” said he to me, in a tone of 
confidence. “I have been a very idle, careless 
fellow, and it’s time that I should become more 
like Adam Stallman or Mr. Yernon. 

I applauded his good resolutions ; but I am sorjy 
to say that he very soon forgot them — as people, 
unhappily, too frequently do, to their own certain 
misery and unavailing regrets. 

We were once more entering Malta Harbour. 
Mr. Yernon at once went on shore, and I ^ain 
accompanied him. He repaired to the post-office ’ 


286 


SALT water; or, 


but there were, to his evident disappointment, nc 
letters for him. Pie considered for a moment 
“ We’ll go to the agents of the Ariadne ^ — she must 
have arrived at Gibraltar long before the last mails 
left.” 

The agent’s office was close to the harbour. AVo 
threaded our waj to it among bales, and casks, and 
|)ackages. 

The senior partner, Mr. Dunnage, received us 
very politely; and when Mr. Yeriion inquired for 
the brig, his countenance assumed a grave look. 

AYe must hope for the best,” he replied ; ‘‘ but 
she is, I own, very long overdue, and we have had 
no tidings whatever of her. She may liave put 
into some little-frequented port, Avith the loss of 
her spars or masts, and the master may not have 
been able to communicate with us. IPay, I am 
sure it must be so,” he continued, seeing the agi- 
tation into which the information had thrown my 
lieutenant. 

‘‘Was the master a steady and good seaman?” 
asked Mr. Yernon, in a voice husky with emotion. 

“ JYot a steadier man nor a better seaman comes 
to this port,” replied Mr. Dunnage. “ If his craft 
was caught by a squall, or got into any other diffi 
culty, I am sure he Avould heave done all that could 
be done for her.” 

“ We fell in with a terrific squall soon after she 
was at sea,” mused Mr. Yernon. “Heaven grant 
that she was not exposed to it.” 

“ It is impossible to say,” answered the mer- 
chant, in a kind tone. “ I feel more than usually 
anxious, on account of her passengers, I own; 
sailors are accustomed to hardships, — they expect 
to meet them in their career; and they are aware, 
when they go afloat, that they must be prepared 
to lose their lives in the gale or the battle,” 


iSTEIL D^ARCY’s life AT SEA. 237 

Mr. Yernon shuddered. He began to realize 
the possibility of the loss— the dreadful death of 
her he loved. Still he was a right-minded, bravo 
man ; and what is more, a sincere Christian, and 
lie resolved not to give way to despair.* 

Mr. Dunnage perceived, at length, the effect his 
information had produced, and he now did his best 
to mitigate the anxiety of my lieutenant, entering 
warmly into all his plans for gaining information 
as to tile fate of the brig. 

It was agreed that he should write round to all 
the ports on the shores of the Mediterranean, near 
which it was possible the Ariadne could have been 
driven ; and that his correspondents there should 
send boats along the coast from port to port, so 
that no part should remain unexplored. 

“ I should advise you also to see tlie Admiral ^ 
lie will, I am sure, take a warm interest in tlie 
matter.” 

Ho sooner said than done. When sensible men 
are in earnest about an affair, they do not lose time 
by talking, the plan of action being decided on. 

Mr. Dunnage having penned the draft of a cir- 
cular letter to be sent to the ports, left it to be 
copied by his clerks, while we set forth to see the 
Admiral, who was, fortunately, at Malta. 

The worthy old man at once entered into all the 
proposed plans for searching for the brig, and sug- 
gested others. 

“We’ll send Harold to sea at once ; and I’ll 
dispatch all the small craft I can spare on the search. 
Stay, — ^you shall take an order to Captain Poynder 
to sail forthwith. I suppose he’s ready to go ?” said 
he to Mr. Yernon. 

“ We ai’e well supplied with provisions, and can 
soon fill up with water ; we can be off* this evening, 
I know,” replied Mr. Yernon. 


238 


SALT water; or, 

“ Away with you ; and may your searcli be pros- 
perous,” said tlie Admiral, with mucli feeling.^ 

Tlie order to go to sea again was at first received 
witli no little surprise on board; but the fact that, 
the Ariadne was missing being generally known 
on shore, and the bliie-peter being hoisted, the 
officers who had gone on leave came hurrying 
back. 

That night, with a fine breeze, we had run Malta 
out of sight. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

6AIL m SEARCH OF THE ARIADNE FALL IN WITH A BOAT 

AND GREW' — THE MASTER OF THE HELEN HIS NARRATIVE 

ATTACK OF PIRATES CAPTAIN DELANO CAN HE HAVE SEIZED 

THE ARIADNE? 

“Something black and low over the starboard 
bow,” sung out the man stationed on the maintop- 
gallant masthead. 

“ How far ofif is it ?” hailed the first-lieutenant. 

“ Two miles or thereabout, sir,” was the reply. 

“ What does it look like?” was again asked." 

“ A boat, I think, sir, as much as any thing,” 
answered the look-out. 

Scarcely had the seaman aloft hailed the deck, 
than Mr. Yernon, his countenance paler than usual, 
showing the agitation within, had slung his glass 
over his shoulder, and was on his way up tho 
rigging. At the topgallant-masthead he now sat, 
eagerly looking out towards the point indicated. 
The ship’s course was instantly directed towards it. 
It was an exciting moment. It might prove to be 
a b^at, keel uppermost, and have no tale to tell. 


NEIL d’AKCY’s life AT SEA. 


2fB9 

except to let us surmise tliat she had proved no ark 
of safety to those who had trusted to her ; or she 
might have living beings on board, whom our dis- 
covery of her might rescue from starvation and 
death. Other officers followed Mr. Yernon aloft. 

‘‘ She is a boat afloat, and pulling towards us,” 
sung out one of them. 

Everybody on board was looking over the sides 
or out of the ports at the boat, which we neared 
vapidly. We soon made out that there were 
several people in her, besides those who were 
pulling ; but whether there was a lady or not we 
could not discover. I pitied poor Mr. Yernon’s 
feelings all the time very much. He came down 
on deck again, and stood at the gangway, pale as 
death, but manfully suppressing his emotion. The 
boat drew near us ; she was evidently belonging to 
a merchantman, and, from her build, and the ap- 
pearance of the people, they were English ; but 
there was no female form among them. Mr. Yer- 
non scrutinized the countenances of those in the 
boat as slie came alongside; but he soon, ap- 
parently, recognized none as those he had seen on 
board the Ariadm, for he drew a deep breath, 
and, I thought, seemed more composed. 

ITie people from the boat now came up the side, 
and she was hoisted up. She was in a very bat- 
tered condition, and had evidently been lately 
repaired in a hurried manner. 

They were received at the capstern by Captain 
Pojmder. An honest, sturdy-looking gentleman 
stepped forward as spokesman. 

“ I see that I am fortunate enough to have got 
on board a British man-of-war,” he be^an. “ W ell, 
sir, I have a pretty account of piracy and at 
tempted wholesale murder to give,” 


240 


SALT water; or, 


Let me hear it at once, sir, that I may judge 
^vhat is to be done,” said Captain Foynder. 

“ Yes, sir, certainly. My name is Hudson, sir. 
You must know that I am, or rather was, master 
of the Helen brig. We sailed from Liverpool, 
where we took in a valuable cargo of manu- 
factured goods, chiefly silks and fine cottons. 
We were bound for Leghorn. While- we were 
taking in our cargo there lay alongside of us 
a fine new brig, the William^ owned by some 
very respectable merchants of our port. Her 
master was a certain Captain Delano, a very well- 
spoken, fine-looking man. I cannot say that 1 
over liked him. There was something in his eye, 
and way of talking, which made me doubt him. 
^ot but that he said many things that were very 
good and right; but there was nothing hearty 
in them ; and now and then he let out opinions 
which made me sure he was a bad man, notwith- 
standing the way he had managed to come over 
his owners. There were several suspicious things 
which I had heard of himdrom time to time. He 
was an American, hailing from Hew York ; yet he 
fought very shy of all masters coming from thence, 
and had refused, on some excuse or other, to take 
charge of a vessel gaing there. He, two years ago, 
had command of a bark, the Bi'unswicTc^ trading 
up the Straits. Some queer things were said to 
have taken place^in her; and I’m very much mis- 
taken if the black flag did not fly aboard her more 
than once. At last, this Mr. Delano was caught 
attempting to cai’ry out a large smuggling transac- 
tion in Malta Harbour, as, perhaps, you may have 
heard, sir, when you have been there. He was 
convicted, and thrown into prison. After having 
been shut up for a j^ear, he was liberated, ruined 
in character, and without a penny in his pocket, 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 241 

Any other man, almost, would never again have 
been able to lift up his head ; but his tongue served 
him in good stead, and, finding his way to Liver- 
pool, he had the impudence to present himself 
before his owners, and the wdt to persuade them 
that he was a much-injured individual, and inno- 
cent as the new-born babe of all the charges 
])rought against him. They gave him in conse- 
quence, as I said, the command of the William^ a 
new brig just off the stocks. On some pretext or 
other, he was constantly aboard us as we were 
taking in our cargo, and, with the thoughts I had 
of him, I cannot say that I quite liked it. I under- 
stood, also, from my people, that four of the 
Brunswick^s crew had found him out, and ship- 
ped with him ; and the night before he sailed 
another very suspicious-looking character shipped 
aboard, and, as the vessel went out of harbour, 
was seen doing duty as mate. I mention these 
things, sir, that you may judge whether I am 
likely to be right in my conjectures as to what 
afterwards occurred. I will not keep you longer 
than I can help. We had a fine passage to the 
Gut, though with three or four days of light and 
bafifting winds. We had got through the Straits ; 
and about a couple of days after we had passed 
them we made out, on our weather-bow, a brig, 
under easy canvas, standing across our course. 

“ ‘ Where can she be bound to V says I to my 
mate, here. 

‘‘ ‘ Only to the coast of Africa,’ says he ; ‘ for 
you see, sir, she had a fair wind up or down the 
Mediterranean.’ 

“ ‘ She is in no hurry, at all events,’ says I, ‘ with 
that sail she has set.’ 

‘I can’t make it out,’ says he. ‘See, sir, she 
looks as if she intended to speak us. She haa 
21 


242 


SALT water; or, 


altered lier course a couple of points. Aj, 1 seft 
how it is — she is short-handed, by the way those 
sails are set, and the ropes, too, are all hanging 
slack about her. Perhaps ehe has lost some of her 
people by fever, or maybe they have been washed 
overboard in a squall.’ 

“ As I looked at the brig more attentively, there 
was a strange foreign look about the paint on her 
sides and figure-head, which puzzled me, and still 
the cut of her sails and the rake of her masts was 
English. Presently, however, an ensign, with the 
stars and stripes of the United States, flew out at her 
peak. That seemed to set the matter at rest. The 
stranger soon bore down on us, and I hailed her to 
know who she was and what she wanted. 

“ ‘The Crescent^ from Xew York, bound for the 
Levant,’ was the answer. ‘ We’ve lost more than 
half our ship’s company in trying to save some 
people off a wreck, and have ourselves sprung a 
leak. Can you send any of your people aboard to 
help us to try and stop it ?’ 

“ ‘ Ay, ay,’ I answered ; for you see, sir, I am 
always glad to lend a hand to any other ship’s 
company requiring assistance. To show that what 
he stated was true, three or four hands were work- 
ing at the pumps, though I did not see that they 
were forcing much water over the sides. W e low- 
ered a boat accordingly, and I jumped in, with four 
hands, and pulled aboard the stranger. As the 
bowman caught hold of the mainchains — 

“ ‘ Why, she has canvas over her sides,’ ^e re,- 
marked. 

“ ‘ Shove, off, my lads, it’s not all right,’ I sung 
out. But, before the bowman could clear his boat- 
hook, a couple of cold shot were hove into the boat, 
and she began to fill rapidly. We had no choice 
but to scramble on board, or to go down with her. 


NEIL D'^AECY’S life AT SEA. 


243 


As soon as we were on the deck of the stranger, 
we found ourselves knocked over; and, before we 
could get on our legs, we were bound hand and 
foot. The men who acted as officers, as well as 
the crew of the vessel, were rigged out in so odd 
a fashion, and their faces so covered up with hair 
and black patches, that I could not have recog- 
nized them had I known them ever so well ; but 
still, at the time, it struck me, that the fellow who 
seemed to be the captain had a figure very like 
that of Delano. Of course, I did not say any 
thing, as I knew that to do so would be a sure way 
of getting knocked on the head, and made food for 
fishes. Leaving my people and me on the deck 
to think what we might, the villains, who had now 
got a boat in very good condition, lowered her, 
and, with pistols hid under their shirts, and cut- 
lasses and muskets stowed away underneath the 
thwarts, went aboard my brig. In a few minutes 
they hailed, which showed me that they had made 
quick work in taking possession. The two vessels 
were now brought alongside each other, and 
lashed together, and my men and I were handed 
on board our own craft, and carried below — I into 
my cabin, and the rest into the forepeak, where 
others of the crew had been already conveyed. I 
won’t attempt to tell you how I felt, as I saw the 
villains rifling my boxes and lockers, and carrying 
off every thing worth having. They made quick 
work of it, being hurried on by their captain ; and 
then they set-to to take possession of our cargo. 

‘ ‘ — — n sleeping-berth, on my 



nothing; but, from the 


sounds I heard, I judged that they were handing 
bale after bale of our cargo into their own craft. 
Their cargo, if they had one, I suppose they hove 
overboard, to make room for ours. How long 


SALT water; or, 


2U 


they continued at this work I don’t know Ii 
seemed to me an age, you may be sure, sir. At 
last they knocked off, and there was silence for 
some time. I thought they were going to leave 
us, when I heard them return pn board ; and there 
was a sound which I could not mistake. The mur- 
derous villains were boring holes in the ship’s bot- 
tom. I felt it was all up with us. They intended 
to let the brig founder, with all her crew, so that 
there should be no witnesses to their robbery. In 
vain I tried to get my hands loose. They were 
too well secured, and I had, therefore, nothing to 
do but to resign myself to my fate. It was not the 
first time that I had faced death ; and, sirs, I knew 
in whom to trust: He had before preserved my 
life. Gentlemen, I should be an ungrateful wretcli 
if I did not thus at once acknowledge God’s great 
mercy to us. He has preserved our lives, and we 
are here.” 

The reverential way in which the worthy master 
spoke made a deep impression on me. There was 
no ostentation — no hypocrisy — no cant ; but heart- 
felt gratitude, and humble reliance on God’s pro- 
tecting hand. 

“ Ho excuse necessary. What you say is right 
—perfectly right ; you speak as a Christian should, 
and I honour you for it ; but go on,” replied Cap- 
tain Poynder, who was evidently anxious to arrive 
at the conclusion of the master’s somewhat prolix 
narrative. 

“ Well, sir,” he continued, “ of one thing I felt 
pretty certain, that Delano was the perpetrator of 
this horrible outrage. It was the very trick he was 
reported to have played before ; and which, from 
what I had seen of him, I judged he would be 
ready to play again. I could hear the water begin 
to rush into the ship, but it did not reach the deck 


NEIL d'ARCY’S life AT SEA. 2-i5 

of the cabin so soon as I expected. There was a 

f ood deal of noise on deck, as if the pirates were 
nocking things to pieces; and then I judged that 
the vessels had separated, and that tlie pirate had 
sheered off to leave us to our fate. All was silent, 
and I could not tell whether my poor fellows had 
been carried off or been left to share my fate with 
the brig. Some twenty minutes or half an hour 
had passed in this state of uncertainty, when I 
heard a noise, as if bulkheads were being knocked 
in, and my own name was called by a voice which 
I recognized as that of my mate. " 1 shouted joy- 
fully in return, and in a few seconds he and some 
of tne crew rushed into the cabin and released me. 

“‘The brig seems in no way inclined to go 
down, captain,’ they exclaimed. ‘ If we, could but 
get the pumps rigged, we might save her as well 
as our lives ; but the pirate has only sheered off to 
a short distance, and if the villains on board were 
to catch sight of our faces on deck, they would 
soon return and put a finishing stroke to us.’ 

“ ‘ Let’s see if we can do any thing to keep the 
water out,’ said I, though I had little hopes of 
success. 

“ On going into the hold, which was pretty w^ell 
free of cargo, on examination I discovered that the 
holes had been bored through the timbers, instead 
of through the planks. 

“ ‘ Either a friend or a lubber has done this,’ ex- 
claimed my mate. 

“ ‘ I think the former,’ I observed. ‘ Get some 
plugs, as fast as you can, my lads, and we’ll soon 
stop these leaks, and yet keep the old barkie 
afloat.’ 

“ The holes were bored mostly high up, so that 
they were easily got at, and we thus had the 
greater number of them quickly plugged. There 

n* 


246 


SALT WATER; OR, 


is no doubt in my mind that tlie man who bored 
the holes hoped by tliat means to save our lives. 
One of the crew, who had all been shut up in the 
forepeak, told me that the man who had lashed his 
hands took occasion to pass him, when he whis- 
pered, ‘ Don’t move till we’re clear off — things are 
not so bad for you as they look.’ "When I heard 
this, I was sure that all on board the pirate were 
not as great villains as their leaders. As soon as 
this man had got his hands free — which he did 
without difficulty, for they were purposely ill 
secured, — he loosed the rest, and tlien, afraid to 
show themselves on deck, lest the pirates should 
see them, they woi’ked their way aft to my cabin. 
A strong confirmation to my suspicions that the 
pirate brig is no other than the William^ com- 
manded by Delano, is, that as one of my people 
lay bound on lier deck, when we were knocked 
down on boarding her, he observed the name of 
the sailinaker on her fore-topsail — John Keynolds, 
of Liverpool. He remarked the name particularly, 
because he was the maker who had furnished the 
sails of the last vessel he had sailed in, and he re- 
membered that he had observed the same name 
on the William'^ s sails. We remained below for 
some little time after we had plugged the holes, 
and then we managed to wrench off the hatches of 
the forepeak. When we had done this, I crept 
cautiously out, and looking over the bulwarks, I 
saw the pirate about a quarter of a mile off*, lying 
by us, apparently to watch till we should go down. 
This made our position very perilous, for any mo- 
ment the pirates might return and knock us all on 
the head ; though, for that matter, I resolved that 
if they attempted it, we would sell our lives at no 
cheap rate. 

As I glanced my eyes along our deck, and up 


XEIL d’arCY’s life AT SKX. 


247 


aloft, a sad scene of liavoc and destruction met 
them. Our running rigging was unrove and car- 
ried off; our standing rigging was cut through, and 
what sails remained on the yards were hanging in 
shreds. On deck, our boats were stove in, the 
caboose knocked to pieces, and the cooking things 
gone. Indeed, I could scarcely have supposed 
that so much mischief could liave been committed 
by a few people in so short a time. Having made 
these observations, I again went below, to hold a 
consultation wdth my mates as to what was best to 
be done. We made up our minds that as long as 
the water did not gain on ns, and the pirate^lay 
near us, all we could do was to remain quiet 
below ; but we agreed to arm oui-selves in the best 
way we could, and if the pirates returned, to rush 
out on them in a body, and to attempt to take them 
by surprise. The. arms from my calhn had been 
carried off; but there were three brace of ])istols 
and a couple of fowling pieces in a chest in the 
after-hold, which had escaped their notice, as also 
some ammunition. We had also among us a couple 
of axes, and some thick ends of crowbars ; so 
that we were likely to prove pretty formidable in 
a close scuffle. When we were ready, we almost 
wished that the fellows would come back, that we 
might punish t^iem for what they had done, and I 
believe that we should have rendenid a good ac- 
count of them. But at the same time, as blood- 
shed must have followed — and that in any case is 
bad — and we could not have regained our prop- 
erty, I cannot say but what I am glad they did nor 
make the attempt. If we had had the brig under 
control, we might have done something; but with- 
out sails, and almost sinking, we were helpless. I 
now returned on deck, to watch the movements of 
the pirate, AH this time the water kept coming 


248 


SALT WATER; OR, 




in, and I began to fear that our l)rig woil i noi 
keep afloat till tlie pirate had sheered off, when 
suddenly 1 saw her sheet lioiiie her topsails, let fall 
her courses, and make sail away to the eastward. 
After watching her for a quarter of an hour — 
which seemed four times as long a period — to 
make sure that the pirates could no longer see us, 
I called the people up from below to rig the 
pumps. The pirates had, however, done their ut- 
most to render them useless, and we soon found 
that we must give up all hopes of clearing the shij) 
of water. We then turned-to to examine the boats. 
One was so completely stove in that she was per- 
fectly useless ; and we made up our minds that we 
should have to take to a raft, when the carpenter 
I'eported that lie could in a very short time render 
the other boat seawoidhy. We accordingly did 
our best to make her tit to float, though darkness 
came down upon us before we had finished. W e 
could only find one lantern, which enabled us to 
- continue our work but very slowly. We made 
a rough sort of a raft to keep us afloat, in case 
the brig should go down suddenly ; but I nevei 
passed a more anxious night. It was noon the 
next day before the boat was ready. Scarcely had 
we got clear of the brig before she went down; 
and certainly it \vas from no mercy of Delano’s 
that we did not sink in her. I at once shaped a 
course for Malta, as the wind had shifted round to 
the westward, and it was the British port we could 
most, easily reach, and where we could at the same 
time get aid to go in search of the pirate. What 
with baffling winds, we have been a long time 
knocking about, and might have been still longer, 
had we not fallen in with you, sir. All T can say 
more is, that the sooner a stop is put to the cai'eer 
of those villains the better, It is impossible to 


NEIL D’ARCY'S life AT SEA. 249 

tell what other atrocities they may have cfoni- 
mitted.’’ 

While the master of the Helen was giving his ' 
naiTative, I saw Mr. Vernon turn very pale; and 
as he made this last observation, I thought he "would 
have tallen. It had evidently occurred to him that 
the Ariadne might have been seized by Delano. 
By a mighty effort of self-command, however, he 
recovered himself. 

“ I arn much pleased with your clear statemtiit, 
Mr. Hudson,” said Captain Poynder ; “ we will 
return to Malta immediately, and take steps to dis- 
cover what has become of the William^ or rather 
the pirate which plundered you. I cannot doubt 
that they are one and the same craft.” 

‘‘Thank you, sir; that’s what I think should be 
done,” said the worthy master : “ I’ve no doubt the 
pirate will be found before long.” 

“ Captain Poynder, is it possible that the pirate 
could have fallen in with the Ariadne said Mr. 
Vernon, in a hollow voice, trembling with agita- 
tion. 

“ I trust not — I trust not,” replied the Captain. 
‘‘We’ll hope for the best: at the same time, we 
will do our utmost to ascertain the truth.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

BETUEN TO MALTA SAIL IN A SOHOONEE — SEAECH FOE TUK 

WILLIAM — THE IONIAN ISLANDS — EEAOH SMTENA — SUEPEISB 
THE PlEATES — I PEESEEVE THE SHIP FEOM BEING BLOWN 
UP — MTEES AND HIS TEIOKS. 

We had a foul wind, and it took us three days to 
beat back into Malta harbour. Our return caused 


250 


8ArA’ WATER; OR, 


much surprise ; for it was deemed prudent to keep 
Captain Hudson’s narrative a secret till we had 
ascertained what had become of Delano, lest any of 
his friends should Iiear of it, and, by giving him 
notice, might enable him to escape. I was again 
Mr. Yeriion’s companion on shore, where he went 
as .soon as we had dropped our anchor. We first 
bent our steps to the office of Mr. Dunnage, as he 
seemed to take a warmer and more active interest 
than anybody else in the mysterious disappearance 
of the Ariadne. We were shown into the v/orthy 
merchant’s private room, where he sat surrounded 
by piles of tin boxes, with long bygone dates mark- 
ed on their sides, and heaps of old ledgers and jour- 
nals; with pictures of ships on the walls, and a 
model of one of antique build, fully rigged, over 
an old dark oak press at his back. Mr. Dunnage 
had a full, fresh, Anglo-Saxon countenance, which, 
though I at first thought rather grave and cold, aftei 
a few minutes’ conversation seemed to beam with 
kindness and good nature. He looked grave as we 
entered, and, having motioned us to be seated, shook 
his head as he remarked, “ I have no news, lieu- 
tenant, of the brig, I am grieved to say. Have you 
any thing to report ?” 

“ The worst surmises only, sir,” said Mr. Yernon ; 
and he then gave him an account of our having 
])icked up the master and crew of the Ilelen^ ana 
of the outrage they had suffered. 

Mr. Dunnage listened with deep interest. 

“ Ah ! that fully accounts for a circumstance 
which has puzzled me exceedingly. That very 
brig, the William^ belongs to my friends, Hodge, 
Podge, and Co., of Liverpool ; and I am sure they 
would have consigned her to me, had they intended 
her to come here. Here she came, however, com 
B’gned to a Jew, a man of very disreputable char 


KEIL C’aRCY’s LIEE Ai' SEA. 


251 


acter ; and 1 understand that she discharged but a 
very small part of her cargo. We must try and 
find out what has become of it, and see if Captain 
Hudson can identify any portion of it. When i 
sent down to inquire about her, I found that she had 
sailed agan, and, it was reported, had proceeded u] 
to the Levant. Altogether my suspicions were 
very much excited, especially when I found, oi 
inquiry, that Delano was her master. Her crew 
also, were said to have come on shore in gay 
coloured silk waistcoats, and to have spent more 
money than seamen are likely to have lawfully pos- 
sessed.” 

“ Oh, let us at once try and find out what was 
the nature of the cargo sold by Delano,” exclaimed 
Mr. Yeraon. “ Can you tell me what the Ariadne 
had on board ?” 

“ I see the drift of your question,” answered Mr. 
Dunnage ; ‘‘ but I do not think that, foolhardy as 
Delano may be, he would have ventured to offer 
for sale articles which had been shipped from this, 
and would be so easily recognized. Ho; all that 
we can hope to prove without a doubt is, that the 
William is the brig which plundered the Helen / 
and we must then take means to find out, without 
delay, what has become of her, and to put a stop 
to her career. Stay ; let me consider what is best 
to be done. The Admiral will, I am sure, gladly 
send all the men-of-war that can be spared to look 
out for her.” 

“ I have thought of that already,” said Mi*. 
Yernon; “but, my dear sir, I suspect that such 
would not be the best way to capture the pirate 
crew. They would, very likely, hear of our being 
on the search for them, or would become suspicions 
at the sight of a man-of-war, and contrive to make 
tl.eir escape. lYe shall require to use great cau- 


252 


SALT WATER ; OR, 


tion to get hold of so clever a fellow as Delar 3 is 
described to be. 1 would propose rather to fit out 
a small merchantman, a xebeque or schooner, and 
to man her with men-of-war’s-men. We may, in a 
(;raft of that description, be able to get alongside 
the William^ unsuspected, and to capture her with- 
out loss of life.” 

‘‘ A capital idea,” exclaimed Mr. Dunnage. I 
have a craft in my eye, which I think you will con- 
sider suitable for the object ; and I am certain the 
merchants here will gladly defray all expenses.” 

So the matter was settled ; and as neither Mr. 
Dunnage nor my lieutenant were men who would 
allow the anchor to block up Mr. Neptune’s cot- 
tage-door for many days together, we immediately 
set off to have a look of the vessel proposed. She 
was a small schooner, the Thisbe ^ — most vessels in 
the Mediterranean have classical names, — and the 
I’esult of the examination was the opinion that she 
was well suited for the purpose. 

“ Now, my dear lieutenant,” said Mr Dunnage, 
“ do you go on board and beat up for a crew. I 
will run round to the merchants to get them to 
share the expenses. By this evening she shall have 
her stores on board and be ready for sea. Don’t 
suppose I’m bragging. Where there is a will there 
is a way.” 

Off ran our excellent friend, while Mr. Yernon 
and I , hastened on board to describe the proposed 
plan to Captain Poynder, and to get his leave to 
borrow some of the HarolWs men. As may be 
supposed, there were plenty of volunteers for tho 
expedition ; indeed, everybody wanted to go ; bu^ 
we had to wait patiently till Mr. Dunnage came 
on board, as he promised to do to announce what 
arrangements he had made. When I got back into 
the berth, I found all the youngsters discussing 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


253 


the subject of the disappearance of i\\Q Ariadne. It 
was the general opinion that it was possible Delano 
and his crew might have fallen in with her ; but 
still she had had ample time to reach Gibraltar. 
We made up our minds that Mr. Yernon would be 
placed in command of the expedition, and we each 
of us hoped to be selected to accompany him. Adam 
Stallman, who was in the berth, did not make any 
remark ; but after a time he got up and went on 
deck. He looked, I observed, more sad and full of 
care than even Mr. Yernon. At last Mr. Dunnage 
came on board with a dispatch from the Admiral 
to Captain Paynder. Mr. Yernon was soon after- 
wards sent for into the cabin. The consultation 
was veiT short. When he came out, he informed 
Adam Stallman that he had applied for him as his 
mate, and, to my great satisfaction, told me that I 
was also to accompany him. I was very anxious 
to get Dicky Sharpe ; so, mustering up all my cour- 
age, I boldly asked Captain Poyiider if he might 
be of the party. 

“ I suppose Mr. Du Pre can dispense with his 
valuable services in the ship for a time,” replied 
the Captain ; “so, if Mr. Yernon will take charge 
of him, and you, Mr. D’Arcy, will undertake that 
he gets into no mischief, he has my leave to go.” 

Tlie truth was, the captain was glad to allow the 
jnates and youngsters to go slwslj in small craft, as 
he considered that they thus gained more knowl- 
edge of seamanship, and confidence in their own 
resources, than they could have done by remaining 
on board. Twenty picked men were selected from 
among the volunteers to man the schooner. Mr. 
Hudson, and four of his crew, were also asked to 
go, to identify, if they could, the pirates. As soon 
as the volunteers had got their bags ready, and been 
mustered, we were ordered away in the boats to 


254 


SALT water; or, 


bring the schooner down to the frigate, fr. la up a 
creek in the liarbour where she lay, while the purser 
was directed in the mean time to get provisions and 
stores in readiness for her. Where a body of dis- 
ciplined men labour with a will, a large amount ot 
work can be done in a short time ; and thus, befcre 
night set in, we had the 2'hishe titled for sea, pro- 
visioned, stored, and watered. We shipped, like- 
wise, four light guns, and a supply of small arms 
and cutlasses, that we might make sure of master- 
ing the pirates, in case the plan of taking them by 
surprise should miscarry. We were also ordered 
to take with us our rough clothes, .that we might 
look as much as possible like merchant seamen. 
Our shipmates in the Harold gave us three cheers 
as we cast off from her side, and, with a light breeze 
and a clear sky, stood out of the harbour. The 
merchants had left full discretion to Mr. Yernon to 
proceed as he judged best from the information he 
might obtain ; but they suggested, at the same time, 
that he should run through the Greek islands, 
among which it was probable the pirate would have 
gone ; and, not finding her there, proceed to Smyr- 
na, where it was reported one of the pirates had 
said they were go.ing. Both Mr. Vernon and 
Adam Stallman had been on shore all day picking 
up what information they could. Among other 
things, they found that the crew of the WilUa/in 
liad been very profuse in their expenditure on 
shore ; and,^as if to account for the quantity of cash 
they possessed, had said that they had the luck tc 
fall in with an abandoned vessel. To show, how- 
ever, how difficult it is for rogues to agree in a 
false story, one had said that they had met her in 
the Bay of Biscay, and another, inside, the Straits, 
while a third had the audacity or blind folly to 
declare that the name was the HeUn^ though the 


NKIL D’aRCY’s life AT SEA. 


255 


others gave her different names. As soon as it was 
known that suspicions were attached to the crew 
of the William^ several tradesmen came forward 
to say what they knew about them. One of those 
gentlemen said, that he thought it rather odd, as T 
tliink indeed he might, when one of the men ordered 
twenty silk waistcoats of him of different gay pat- 
terns, and paid the price down at once, while ano- 
ther bought six green coats. I dare say Mr. Snip 
charged him a full price. He declared that he had 
not sufficient reason to give any information to the 
police about the matter, as seamen wer<i curious ' 
fellows, and sometimes fond of displaying fine 
clothes. Another had spent large sums in a jewel- 
ler’s shop, and had gone out with several gold chains 
about his neck. From what was reported, indeed, 
it appeared that the wretched crew had spent a 
large part of their ill-gotten wealth. To account 
for their having so much cash, it was ascertained 
that they had at first gone to Leghorn, where 
Delano had doubtless disposed of some part of the 
r*f>ro-o. It is only surprising that the authorities at 



horn had not detained her, when there were so 


many suspicious circumstances about her. Thus, 
all the time that the wretches were under tlie idea 
that their crime was unknown, and themselves un- 
suspected, they were insuring the means of their 
own detection and capture, i kept the first watch, 
with Adam Stallman, the night we sailed, when he 
made the above remark, and many others. 

“ You will observe, D’Arcy,” said he, “ as you 
go through life, that evil-doers nearly always laj^ 
nets for their own destruction. I might, I think, 
safely say always. These men have already given 
us evidence which must be sufficient to convict 
tliem ; and, if not, depend on it, we shall find it 
before long. How, how do you think this hap- 


256 


SALT WATER; OR, 


pens ? Because, as I believe tlie Evil Sj. irii is ever 
going about seeking whom he may devour, ho 
tempts men to commit sin, and then so blinds their 
minds, that they can no longer from a right judg- 
ment, even to save themselves form tlie detection 
of their fellow men. His temptations, also, are so 
weak and frivolous, wlien viewed in their proper 
light, that, did not one know the folly of man, one 
vrould be surprised that he could venture to make 
use of them. His baits are always of a tinselly or 
shadowy nature, either worthless when caught, or 
' altogether illusions, as useless to people in general 
as the gold chains and silk^ waistcoats are to these 
rough pirates. Should it not make our hearts sink 
with sorrow, when we see the worthless wealth, the 
empty titles, for which men barter away their 
souls 

I agreed with Stallman as to the correctness of 
his remarks. My excellent messmate wa« very 
fond of endeavouring, in a similar mode, to give 
instruction to the youngsters brought in contact 
with him. To do him justice, he contrived to do 
so in a more interesting way than my account might 
leave my readers to suppose. We had a fair wind, 
though light, for the first twenty-four hours, and 
the schooner made good way ; but at the end of 
that time, it shifted round to the eastward, a regular 
sneezer came on, the sea got up, and, cjose-hauled, 
the little schooner was soon ploughing her way 
through the foaming waves. My long service in the 
cutter made me perfectly at home; but Dicky 
Sharpe, who had never been in a small craft in his 
life, was very soon done up. He threw himself 
down on a locker in the little cabin aft, looking the 
very picture of misery. 

“ Oh ! D’ Arcy, my dear fellow, do have the kind- 
ness to heave me overboaa’d,” he groaned out ; ‘‘ I 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


257 


can be of no further use to any one in this world, 
and it would be a charity to put me out of it. It 
would, indeed, I assure you.” 

“ Oh, nonsense, Shai’pe,” I answered. “ You are 
speaking gross folly ; only your sea-sickness excuses 
you.” 

“ Now don’t scold me, Neil, — don’t,” he replied. 
“ If you felt as I do, you would not be inclined to 
be very sensible.” 

“ Well, then, get up, and be a man,” said I. “ If 
you give in like that, and fancy yourself dying, and 
all sorts of things, you deserve to be thrown over- 
board ; though I’m not the person going to do it.” 

“All hands shorten sail !” sung out Adam Stall- 
man, who had charge of the deck. 

I spruno- up the companion-laddei’, followed by 
Dicky, and from that moment he forgot all about 
his sea-sickness. 

We soon got the little craft under snug canvas, 
and time it was to do so ; for, as man-of-war’s men 
often do small craft, we had been treating her like 
a big ship, and clirrying-on till the last moment. 
Never had the Tkisbe been shoved through the 
water, probably, at the rate we had lately been 
going ; but more haste the worst speed, as we ran 
a great chance of proving to our cost, for we were 
very near carrying the masts over the sides, or 
making the small craft turn the turtle. 

For two days we beat up against the gale, not 
one of us keeping a dry thread on our backs ; but, 
after forty-eight hours of a good honest blow, the 
wind seemed to have done enough for the present, 
and, turning into a light baffling breeze, left us to 
make an easy, though slow, passage across the blue 
calm sea. this sort of weather continued till we 
made the mountainous and wild-looking coast of 
the Island of Cephalonia. We ran in close along 


258 


SALT water; or, 


allure, as tliere are no rocks to bring up a vessel ; 
and standing up a deep bay on tbe western side, 
with Guardiana, or Lighthouse Island, on the north, 
dropped our anchor off Ai-gostoli, the chief town. 
Most of the people were ordered to keep quiet 
below, while Mr. Yernon, in plain clothes, went 
on shore in the dingy. He came back in a short 
time, and reported that he could gain no tidings 
answering to the description of the William, 

My own knowledge of Cephalonia is but slight ; 
but Stallman, who had been there before, gave me 
some information about it. It is one of the Ionian 
Islands, under the protection of England, and had 
an English garrison, at that time consisting of about 
live hundred of the rifle brigade. Thanks to Sir 
Frederick Adams, the country appears to be in a 
flourishing condition ; the roads are excellent ; and 
the inhabitants cultivate not only the fertile valleys, 
but every inch of soil to be found among its rocky 
heights. There is another neatly-built and pleasant- 
ly-situated town, called Luxuria, about three miles 
from Guardiana. 

If we thought Cephalonia interesting, Zante, the 
next place at which we touched, was far more so. 
Its citadel occupies a lofty hill, situated at the head 
of a deep bay. The citadel, bristling with guns, — 
the town, with its steeples and domes, — and the 
surrounding country, with its groves of olives, its 
flelds of waving corn, and its villas and hamlets, 
presented to our eyes a scene of surpassing love- 
liness. Hot a word of information could we obtain 
of the objects of our search, so we again weighed 
anchor and stood on towards Corfu, the most beauti- 
ful and interesting of all the Ionian Islands, within 
bight of the lofty and picturesque mountains of 
Adbania. The citadel of Corfu, standing on an 
island on the southern side of the town, may, froiu 


NEIL d’AROY S LIFE AT SEA, 


259 


its lofty position, surmounted by a lighthouse, be 
discovered at a considerable distance out at sea. 
Its southern side is completely inaccessible, and art 
has rendered the other sides equally difficult to 
ascend, so that it is almost, if not entirely, impre- 
nable. The island is connected to the mainland 
by a bridge, at the end of which is the fine open 
place called the esplanade, extending from the west 
side of the bay to the palace of tlie Lord High Com- 
missioner on the east. Most of the streets run at 
riglit angles to each other ; the principal, the Strada 
Real, runs to the gate wffiich forms the chief en- 
trance to the town. The houses are, for the most ‘ 
part, built in an irregular and slovenly manner ; 
and even the public buildings cannot boast of much 
beauty. The inhabitants, of the town especially^ 
are a mixture of Greeks and Venetians. In the 
country, the population is more purely Greek. 
The roads, constructed chiefl.y by fatigue parties 
from the gari-ison, are excellent, and extend to 
every corner of the island, and must contribute 
much to its material prosperity. At all events, 
British rule has been of great benefit to the Ionian 
people. It might have been of greater. More 
might have been done to educate and improve the 
people, both morally and religiously; but, had they 
been left to themselves, they would, most probably, 
be in a far worse position than they now are. 

Our inquiries here were as little satisfactory as 
at other places ; and we were just tripping our 
anchor, when a merchant brig, coming up the har- 
bour, passed us. Mr. Yernon hailed her, to learn 
where she came from. 

“ Smyrna,” was the reply. 

She brought up near us, and he went on board. 
He returned shortly with more animation in hi« 
couiitenance than I bad long seen there. 


260 


SALT ^yATER; OR, 


I have at last notice of the fellow,” he said. 
“A vessel answering tlie description of the William 
was in Smyrna harbour when the brig came out. 
The crew, by their conduct, seem to have excited 
some suspicion ; and my only fear is that they may 
find it not safe for them to remain, and will, there- 
fore, take their departure.” 

This information put us all in spirits, for we had 
begun almost to despair of catching the pirate after 
all. ITot a moment was lost in getting underway, 
and in making all sail the schooner could carry. 

We had a fair wind, and nothing worthy'of note 
occurred on the passage, till we made the entrance 
of Smyrna harbour, in the outer port of which we 
dropped anchor. Mr. Yernon then dressed him- 
self like the mate of a merchantman, and with 
one of our own people, and one of the crew of 
the Ilelen^ prepared to leave the schooner’s side in 
the dingy. Just at tlie last moment I mustered 
courage to beg that he w^ould let me accompany 
him. I had rigged myself in plain clothes, and 
might, I fancied, have been taken for a steward, or 
the captain’s son. Mr. Yernon considered for mo- 
ment. 

‘‘Yes, come along, D’Arcy,” said he, “you will 
not do us any harm in that dress, and your eyes 
and judgment may be of service.” 

I was delighted at the permission I had gained, 
and eagerly jumped into the boat. Away we then 
pulled up the harbour, in the lazy fashion of a col- 
lier’s crew. We scrutinized narrowly each vessel 
in our coui’se, but none answered the description 
of the William. At last John !Norris, the seaman 
from the Helen.^ exclaimed, — 

“ There, sir, that’s her ; inside the barque, there. 
f>ee, she’s got her foretopsail loosed, and thero’s tho 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


261 


name of the maker on it — the very thing which 
tirst let ns know that she was the William^ 

To make more sure that the man was not mis 
taken, we pulled up the harbour a little way, and 
tiien touching the shore, so as not to excite the sus- 
picion of the pirates, should they by chance observe 
us, we passed close by the vessel on our return, 
There was, I thought, as I watched her, a daik, ill- 
boding look about her ; but that might have been 
fanc}^. One man only was to be seen. He was 
walking the deck, with his hands in his pockets, 
and occasionally looking over the side. He caught 
sight of us as we pulled by, and seemed to be 
watching us narrowly. I felt almost sure that he 
suspected something was wrong ; but probably he 
had got a habit of scrutinizing every thing which 
approached him, as a London pickpocket does, 
when he knows that the police are aware of his 
course of life. As w^e dropped past the brig’s 
quarter, I got a better view of his countenance, 
and I felt sure that I had seen it before. It \vas 
that of a man I supposed to have been hidden long 
ago, with all his crimes, beneath the waves — no 
other than Bill Myers. It was a countenance I 
could not readily forget, after our encounter in the 
cavern. Then, in spite of all probabilities, he had 
contrived to escape from the breakers of the Port- 
land Pace. I was afraid to look up again, lest he 
should also recognize me, and give the alarm to his 
shipmates ; indeed, I was not at all satisfied that 
he had not already suspected our intentions. A 
small boat was fioating astern of the brig. He 
'watched us for some time, as we returned towards 
the schooner, and as long as I could observe him, 
he was keeping his eye on us. We lost not a mo- 
ment, on returning on board, in getting out a mer- 
chantman’s long-boat, which wo nad brought with 


262 


SALT water; or, 


118. She pulled four oare, and was a large, rooinj^ 
boat. Besides the hands to pull her, eight of our 
men were stowed away under a tarpaulin, which 
was thrown over them, to look exactly as if it were 
covering up some merchandise. All hands under 
the tarpaulin were strongly armed, and arms were 
placed in readiness, stowed away for the use of 
those who were pulling. 

Mr. Yernon again (dianged his dress, and I fol- 
lowed his example, lest Myers — or the man I took 
tor him — might recognize us. With beating hearts 
we once more left the schooner. We pulled slow- 
ly up the liarbour, and soon came in sight of the 
pirate brig. The people, who had probably been 
at their dinners when we before passed, were now 
some of them aloft, fitting the rigging, and others 
working on deck. It required, therefore, careful 
management on our part to take them by surprise. 
We pulled up, as if we were going to pass them at 
some little distance on the starboard side. The 
men imitated admirably the lubberly, sluggish 
fashion in which some merchant-seamen handle 
their oars. Just as we were abeam, each of the 
two men pulling our port oars pretended to catch 
crabs, and this suddenly brought the boat broad- 
side on to the brig’s side. Before, however, we 
could hook on, even the hands aloft seemed to sus- 
pect that something was not right, and came slid- 
ing down the rigging. But notwithstanding this, 
we were too quick for tliem, and before they could 
get below to alarm the rest, the party under the 
tarpaulin had thrown it off, and we altogether 
sprung up the sides, and attacked every one we 
encountered. Some fought desperately. One fel- 
low tried to throw himself overboard ; but we soon 
overpowered them, and had them lashed hands 
and feet. To rush into the cabin was the work of 


NEIL D’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


263 


a niomeut. Tlie door was locked, but we burst it 
open. The noise made the captain, who was in 
his hammock, start up. He gazed at us for a mo- 
ment, wildly and fiercely, and then drawing a pis- 
tol from under his pillow, fii-ed it at us. Hie ball 
passed close to Mr. Yernoii’s ear, and buried it- 
self in the bulkhead. With a savage oath, the pi* 
rate was drawing out another pistol, when we 
threw ourselves on him, and seized his arms. The 
weapon went ohP in the struggle, and very nearly 
finished my career — the ball actually taking on 
the rim of my tarpaulin hat. Before he could make 
any further resistance, three of our people followed 
us into the cabin, and we soon had him, with his 
arms lashed behind him, and his feet secured to- 
gether. While the operation was going on, he 

f lanced at us like a tiger, but did not utter a word. 

he remaining few of the pirates, who had been 
asleep forward in their hammocks, had been se- 
cured without resistance. I looked round for My- 
ers, or the man I had taken for him, but he was 
nowhere to be seen. 

•Just as we had finished securing Delano, I be- 
thought me that I smelt an unusual sulphurous 
odour. A dreadful suspicion had seized me. Out- 
side the main cabin was a door, leading to a smaller 
one. I forced it open, with a strength I did not 
think myself capable of exerting. I felt that there 
was not a moment to be lost. On the deck, were 
a couple of casks ; and a slow match, burning at 
one end, communicated with one of them. I can- 
not say that I thought, and yet I was conscious, 
that ill another moment I and all on board might 
be blown into eternity. I know not what impulse 
moved me ; but, bending down my niouth, I seized 
th« burning match between my teeth, and, though 
it much burned my lips and tongue, held it there 


264 


SALT water; OB, 


till it was extinguislied. Then, overcome by the 
excitement of mj feelings, I sunk down over one 
of the casks. There I lay for a moment, almost 
unconscious of any thing. I need scarcely say that 
the casks were tilled with gunpowder. I should 
have fainted had not Mr. Vernon come in, and 
had me carried on deck. 

“Your presence of mind has saved all our lives, 
D’Arcy,*and I can never forget it,” he exclaimed. 
“ But we have still more work to do. Lift off the 
hatches, my lads.” 

This order was quickly obeyed. With eager 
haste he limited through every part of the ship. 
I guessed at length what was in his mind. He was 
seeking to discover any property of the Hermans, 
or any articles which might have been on board 
the Ariadne, It was a moment of dreadful anxie- 
ty. Hothing, however, was to be found which 
could lead us to suppose that the Ariadne had fall- 
en into the power of Delano. Mr. Yemen had 
directed Adam Stallman to get the schooner under 
way, and to bring her up alongside the pirate brig, 
as soon as he calculated we could have taken pos- 
session. She now appeared, and, furling sails, 
dropped her anchor close to us. The scuffle on 
board the William had attracted the attention of 
the crews of the vessels lying near, several boats 
from which presently came alongside ; and it was, 
I fancy, at ffrst believed that we were a band of 
pirates, attempting to cut out a British merchant- 
man. Mr. Yernon explained to them what had 
occurred, and, after a little time, satisfied them 
that we had full authority for what we were doing. 
I can scarcely describe events in the order they 
occurred. Our search over the brig having been 
concluded, and no one else being discovered,, we 
made inquiries among the pirate crew, to learn 


NEIL D'AECY’s life AT SEA. 


265 


wlio had laid the plan for blowing up the ship ; 
but one and all denied having any knowledge of 
it. Even Delano was taken by surprise when he 
was told of it by Mr. Yernon. 

“Ah! that’s the work then, of that unhung 
scoundrel, my mate, Dawson,” he exclaimed. “ fi 
was a thought worthy of him. What ! and has he 
esca ped 

“We found no one who appears to be your 
mate,” ,said Mr. Y ernon. “ But what could have 
induced him to commit such an atrocious act ?” 

“ To try and save his own neck by sending us 
all to perdition before our time,” exclaimed Dela- 
no, evidently for the moment forgetting all cau- 
tion, from his feeling of exasperation, and thus 
clearly inculpating himself. 

“ Where do you think he has gone, then ?” in- 
quired Mr. Yernon, quickly, hoping to gain further 
information from the pirate in his present mood. 

“ That’s not for me to say,” he replied ; but not 
another word could we elicit from him on the sub- 
ject. 

He kept his fierce eyes glaring on us as we search- 
ed the cabin. We came on a box of cigars in one 
of the lockers. 

“Ah! bring me one of those,” he growled out; 
“ you will let a man make himself comfortable in 
his own cabin, at all events.” 

A seaman, as sentry, had been placed over him, 
with a pistol in his hand. . 

‘^-May I give it him, sir?” asked the man. 

“ Ho ; not on any account,” replied Mr. Yernon ; 
“ but do you, D’Arcy, light one and put it in his 
mouth.” 

As 1 stooped down to follow my superior’s di- 
rections, I fancied the pirate would have tried tc 
bite off my fingers, he gave so vindictive and fierce 

23 


266 


SALT water; or, 


a look at me. As I stood by liim, I asked, “ Haa 
your mate, whom you call Dawson, ever been 
known by the name of Myers ?” 

“ What’s that to you, youngster ? Most men have 
more than one name 1” Avas his somewhat equivocal 
answer. 

His manner, however, rather confirmed me in 
my suspicion that the man I had seen on deck was 
no other than the daring smuggler we had so often 
tried in vain to capture in the cutter. Having 
thoroughly examined the ship, we transferred De- 
lano and five of his crew into the schooner, while 
the remainder were secured on board the brig, into 
which Adam Stallman and Sharpe, with ten of oui 
people, were sent as a prize crew. Before sailing, 
Mr. y ernon went on shore to report to the EngliSb 
Consul, as well as to the Turkish authorities, what 
had occurred. He got great credit from the mer- 
chants for the mode in which he had captured the 
pirate. It appeared that even there the conduct 
of the crew had begun to excite suspicion ; but as 
it happened to be nobody’s business to inquire into 
the affair, they would have escaped, had we not 
opportunely arrived that very day. 

Ho information could be obtained of the missing 
mate. He had not been seen to land, and no one 
had lieard of him. The dingy, however, having 
disappeared from the brig’s stern, was sufficient 
proof that he had effected his escape in her. I was 
too much occupied all the time I was at Smyrna to 
make many observations about the place. Figs are 
the great staple produce and subject of conversa- 
tion for the greater part of the year, enlivened now 
and then by a visit from the plague, and then 
people talk about that ; but at the time I speak of. 
I do not know that it had ever occurred to the in- 
habitants that they had the means in their own 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


267 


hands of avoiding its constant presence by properly 
draining their city. I have since, from the obser- 
vations 1 liave made in my course through life^ 
come to the belief that there is not an ill which 
afflicts mankind which they have not the means of 
mitigating, if not of avoiding altogether. But to 
return to my narrative. As there was nothing 
more to detain us at Smyrna, the two vessels made 
sail, and shaped a course for Malta. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

VOYAGE TO MALTA — THE REPENTANT PIRA'i / -THE PLAGUE 
— ATTEMPT TO CAPTURE THE SCHOONER- BOBBY SMUDGE 

PROVES USEFUL TRIAL OF THE PRISONER? -THEIR EXECU 

TION THE YOUNG PIRATE’s DYING COUNSEL. 

We had been five days at sea, and a fair breeze, 
though somewhat light at times, had sent us toler- 
ably well on our course. A strict watch had been 
kept on the prisoners. All seemed very uncon- 
cerned as to the almost certain fate which awaited 
them. They ate and drank, and laughed and con- 
versed among themselves as if they were to be re- 
leased at the end of the voyage. One of their 
number, however, who had received a severe hurt 
in the scuffle when they were captured, was in a 
very different temper. He kept as far apart from 
them as he could, and joined neither in their jokes 
nor conversation. He was far younger than the 
resi ; and as I watched him I observed an expres- 
sion in his countenance which would not have been 
there had he been a hardened villain. He seemed 
grateful to me also for noticing him, and I conse- 
quently frequently took an opportunity of saying 
a word to him appropriate to his situation. 


268 


SALT water; or, 


“ I should like to read, sir, if I had a book,” he 
said to me one day : “ I once was used to reading; 
and it would he a great comfort.” 

I promised to try and get him a book. When T 
told Mr. Vernon of the man’s request, he advised 
me to lend him my Bible. “ He may not care for 
it at first,” he observed ; but as he wishes to read, 
he may draw instruction and comfort from it ; and 
it may, by God’s grace, enable him to perceive the 
evil of his career.” 

I accordingly took the pirate my Bible — it had 
been my sainted mother’s. The unhappy man’s 
eye brightened as he saw it. 

“Well, sir; I was ashamed to ask for it, and I 
knew not if one might be on board ; but that is the 
book I wanted.” 

I left it with him, and he was constantly reading 
it attentively and earnestly : nor did he allow the 
sneers and jeers of his companions to interrupt 
liim. I had perceived a considerable change in 
him since he was brought on board;- and he every 
day seemed to grow thinner and weaker. I thought 
that he was dying ; and I believe that he was of the 
same opinion. 

Some bulkheads had been run up in the after- 
^art of the hold to tbrm a cabin for Delano — not 
tor his own comfort and convenience, because he 
was the greatest villain of thegung; but in ordei 
not to allow him an opportunity of communicating 
with his companions. He lay there on a mattress 
with his heavy handcuffs, and his legs chained to 
staples in the deck, like a fierce hyena, glaring on 
all who looked at him. I should not, however, 
picture him properly if I described him as a wild- 
looking savage. On the contrary, there was no- 
thing particularly objectionable in his face and 
figure. His face was thin and sallow, without 


NEIL d’aRCY’s life AT SEA. 


269 


much wliisker; his features were regular, and 
could assume a very bland expression ; nis figure, 
too, was slight and active, and his address was not 
un^eutlenianly ; but it was his eye, when either 
sullen or excited, which was perfectly terrible. 
Conscience, he seemed to have none : it was com- 
pletely dead, as were all the better feelings of which 
our nature is capable: they were destroj^ed, too, 
by his own acts — his long unchecked career of 
wickedness. Once he had been gay, happy, and 
innocent ; but no good principles had ever taken 
root in his heart. Yery early, those a mother’s 
care had endeavored to instil into him had been 
eradicate^ ; and step by step — slow at first, per- 
haps — ^he had advanced from bad to worse, till he 
became the consummate villain he now was. But 
I am forestalling the accoimt I afterwards got of 
him. 

We had three officers’ watches on board the 
schooner. Mr. Yernon kept one, I kept another, 
and an old quartermaster we had with us kept the 
third. Mr. Yernon, in com^passion to poor Bobby 
Smudge, had applied for him as cook’s boy, to get 
him out of the way of Chissel, tlie carpenter, his 
master, and in hopes of improving him by a some- 
what different treatment to what he had been 
accustomed. The good effect of considerate kind- 
ness was already a])parent ; and the poor lad 
seemed most grateful for any encouraging wot^^ 
spoken to him. The best of our men had been senl; 
on board the brig, and we remained only with eight 
and the Relents crew — a very >air complement, 
had we not always required two to stand sentry 
over the prisoners. We had another and a more 
insidious enemy on board, of whom we wot not, 
and whom no sentry could control — the plague, 
that fell scourge of Asiatic cities. How it cam « 


270 


SALT water; or, 


on board we could not discover. It might have 
been in some oi the pirates’ clothes or some of our 
men might have caught it while they were on 
shore for a short time ; or it might liave been con- 
cealed in the schooner, long before, and only 
brought forth by a congenial state of the at- 
mospiere. There it was, however. It made its 
appearance on the fifth day, and in two days car- 
ried off three of our people and one of the Helenas 
crew. The pirates escaped unscathed. It seemed, 
indeed, in no way to alarm them. They laughed 
and talked, and blasphemed more than ever. We 
hailed the brig, which had hitherto kept us com- 
])any, and found that she was free from the afflic- 
tion ; so that of course, except at a distance, we 
could hold no communication with her. I will not 
attempt to describe the appearance of that dreadful 
disease. It was sad to see the poor fellows attacked, 
with so little prospect of their recovery ; while no 
one could tell who would be the next victim. As 
they died they were sewn up in their hammocks, 
with a shot at their feet, and at once consigned to 
the deep. Mr. Yernon read the funeral service 
appointed by the Church of England for such an 
occasion. 

After the first man was buried — a fine, active 
\mung fellow two days before, apparently full of 
life and strength — he addressed the crew : 

Do not suppose the prayers I have read can do 
any good to him who has just gone forever from 
our sight. For your benefit they were offered up. 
A like fate to his may be that of any one of us be- 
fore another day has passed ; and I would earnestly 
urge you, for the short time which yet may remain 
for you, to turn your hearts to God — to prepare for 
oternity.” 

Something more he said to the same effect. It 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


271 


was good advice, at the proper time. I am sorr}' 
to saj it was very little heeded, or at all events, 
verj quickly forgotten. Two of those who stood 
by ana heard it were themselves, within two days, 
called to their last and dread account. Mr. Yernon 
took it very much to heart ; anxious and agitated 
as he had been of late, his nerves were much shaken, 
and I feared that he would be the next victim. He 
bore up bravely, like a Christian, for some time ; 
but, as one after another of the crew was taken ill, 
he succumbed, not to the malady itself, but to very 
weariness, and was compelled to take to his cot. 
My commander’s illness threw a larger amount of 
responsibility on me than I had ever before en- 
joyed. I felt on a sudden grown wonderfully 
manful, and did my best to be up to my duty. 
Watson, the quartermaster, was a great aid to me. 
The old man seemed never to want sleep. He 
was on deck at all hours, constantly on the look- 
out, or seeing that the sentries wei’e on the alert. 
Perhaps he did not place full confidence in my 
experience. We had had light winds or calms, 
with a hot burning sun, and sultry nights, for 
nearly a week. When this weather commenced, 
the plague appeared. The barometer had been 
falling for some hours ; but still there was no other 
indication of a change of weather. A fourth man 
was taken ill. I had gone below, to report the 
case to Mr. Yernon, when I heard 'yTatson^ voice, 
in quick eager tones, calling the people on deck to 
sliorten sail. I sprang up the companion-ladder. 
The sea was as smooth as glass, and the sky was 
bright and clear enough in the south-east, whence 
a small dark cloud came sweeping up at a rapid 
rate towards us. I perceived that there was not a 
moment to lose. The people sprang to the halyards 
and brails but before all the sail could be taken 


272 


SALT water; or, 


off tlie vessel, tlie squall had struck her. 0\ er she 
went on her beam-ends. A cry 'of terror was heard 
above the roar of the wind in the rigging, and the 
rattling of ropes and blocks, and the dash of the 
surging waves. The water almost reached the 
combings of the hatches ; everybody oq deck 
thought we were gone. Two of the men were 
washed overboard. Watson, who was aft, hove 
one of them a rope. He seized it wdth convulsive 
energy ; his life, dear to the meanest, depended on 
the tirmness of his grasp. We hauled him in out 
of the seething (cauldron ; but the other poor fellow 
drifted far away. To the last he kept his straining 
eyes fixed on the vessel. He was a strong swim- 
mer, and struck out bravely — ^lifting himself, every 
now and then, high out of the water, as if that use- 
less exertion of strength could bring him nearer to 
us. Perhaps he was looking for a plank, or some- 
thing to make for, to support himself. Unhappily, 
none was hove to him in time. All hands were too 
much occupied in the means for preserving their 
own lives. Weak and ill as he w^as, Mr. Vernon 
had rushed on deck, as he felt the vessel going over. 
He had ordered the helm to be put up ; and Wat- 
son had seized an axe, waiting his directions to cut 
away the mainmast, when the throat halyard-block 
parted ; the peak-halyards had already been let go, 
and the mainsail coming in of itself, the vessel 
righted in an instant — then, feeling her helm, and 
the headsail being yet set, she (lew off before the 
squall. While we w^ere rejoicing at our pwn pre- 
servation, w^e almost forgot ^ur poor shipmate. 
Hever can I forget the cry of despair he gave, 
he saw us flying from him. He knew fuH wel* 
that it was impossible for us to return ; not a spa? 
or a plank was near to support him, to prolong hii 
life even foi a few short hours. The brig, also 


NEIL D’ARCY’s life AT SEA 


273 


was too far away to leeward to render him any 
help i so that aid from man he had none. Lifting 
up his arras, with eyeballs starting from his head, 
he gave one last look at us, and then, uttering a 
cry of agony, sunk forever. It had been dreadful 
to see strong men struck djown by the plague, and 
die by rapid degrees ; but I know not whether a 
scene like this was not still more harrowing. In 
the course of an hour we had run out of the squall, 
and the weather had become cool and refreshing. 
Tlie squall had one very beneficial result, for no 
other persons were attacked with the plague, and 
the man who was suffering from it began rapidly 
to recover. Yernon also sensibly felt the change 
in the weather, and every day I saw an improve- 
ment; though the causes of his illness were too 
deeply seated to allow the atmosphere to have 
much effect on him. We very soon repaired the 
damages which the schooner had sustained, and 
by the next morning we were all to rights. Our 
cliief anxiety was for the brig. We had lost sight 
of her in the squall, and we could not tell whether * 
she had been more prepared than we were to meet 
its fury. Even had she not suffered from the gale, 
the plague might have broken out in her. Mr. 
Yernon came occasionally on deck, but he was 
compelled, from weakness, to spend the greater 
part of the day in his cot, though this was very 
much against his inclination. We had, in vain, 
questioned and cross-questioned our prisoners, to 
discover if they knew any thing of the fate of the 
Ariadne, but not a particle of information could 
we obtain ; and I n^Lyself, satisfied that they 
really knew nothing about her. Our late peril 
suggested a new cause of alarm to the mind of Mr 
Yernon, which apparently, had not before occurred 
to liim ; and he began to fear that the vessel in 
18 


274 


SALT WATER; OR, 


wliicli the Kormaiis had sailed might have been 
overtaken bj one of those white squalls so com- 
mon in the Mediterranean, and might have suffered 
the late we so narrowly escaped. Since the squall, 
our prisoners had remained unusually quiet, though, 
while the plague was aboard, they were as noisy 
and blasphemous in their conversation as ever. 
The sick man continued in the same state as be- 
fore, though he seemed more reserved when I 
spoke to him than he had been at one time. He 
continued reading all day, as long as there w^as 
light, and asked to be allowed to have a candle to 
read at night; but this, of course, could not be 
permitted. There was evidently something work 
ing in his mind, which he would gladly be rid of, 
but could not. Having lost so many hands, the 
duty fell, naturally, more severely on the survi- 
vors ; and we had enough to do, to keep watch on 
deck, and a vigilant guard over our prisonei’s. 

One night, I had charge of the deck. Besides 
the man at the helm, there was the look-out for- 
ward, and two hands lying down by the wdndlass. 
There was no moon, and the sky was covered with 
clouds, so that it was very dark. As I kept mov- 
ing about, now looking out to windward, now over 
the lee-side, and then at the binnacle, to see that 
the schooner was kept on her proper course, I fan- 
cied that I saw a dark figure come up the main 
hatchway; and while I stopped at the waist, I 
heard a voice, in a low whisper, say — 

“ Hist, sir, hist ! I want to speak to you.” 

“ Who is it ?” said I, in the same low tone. 

“ Bobby Smudge, sir ; list^ : there are not 
many moments to lose, before we shall all have 
our throats cut, if we don’t take care.” 

This piece of intelligence put me on the qui vim 


NEIL d’AECY’S life AT SEA. 275 

though, remembering Master Smudge’s pranks, 1 
own that I did not much credit it. 

“ Come here,” said I, rather impatiently, ‘‘ and 
let me know all about it.” 

“ I didn’t like to be seen, sir,” he replied, com- 
ing cautiously up to me, and looking round to as- 
certain that no one was near. “ I don’t know, sir, 
who’s a friend and who’s an enemy aboard here, 
just now.” 

“ What do you mean, boy ?” I asked. 

“ Why, just this, sir. That thundering scoundi’el 
below, there, is just trying hard to turn all the 
men’s heads ; and if we don’t look alive, he’ll do 
it, too.” 

I now felt that there might be some truth in 
poor Smudge’s information. 

“ Go on, my lad,” said I. 

“ Well, sir, I has to confess that the first he tried 
it on with me. While the people were dying with 
the plague, and no one was looking on, he called 
me to him, and told me that he knowed where 
loads of gold was stow^ed a^^yay — enough to sink 
the ship and freight another twice the size ; and 
that if I would help him to get his liberty, he’d 
show it to me, and that I might have as much as 
I wanted. I listened to him, and thought there 
would be no great harm if I was to help him to 
get free, and save his neck ; so I agreed to take a 
message to the rest of the brig’s people, to tell them 
to keep up their spirits, and to try and get their 
arms and legs out of limbo. He then told me to 
hunt in the carpenter’s chest for a file, and a cold- 
chisel and hammer. While I was looking one night 
for the tools, the thought struck me, all of a heap 
like — if this chap was to get free, what would he 
do with Mr. Yernon and you, sir, who had been so 
kind to me, and saved me from so many of that 


276 


SALT water; or, 


Mr. Chissers fiunams ? Why, lie’ll be cutting theii 
throats, to be sure, and making off with the schoo- 
ner ; and where should I then be, I should like to 
know. So, I goes back to Captain Delano, and 
tells him I couldn’t find the tools. lie swears a 
great deal at this, and tells me to go and look for 
them again ; and that if I didn’t bring them, he’d 
be the death of me. How he was to do me any 
harm while he was chained, hand and foot, I 
couldn’t tell ; but still I was very much frightened. 
Well, howsomedever, I keeps a watch on him, and 
I soon seed that he was trying it on with some of 
the Hdevus crew ; and at last, that he’d got one 
of our people to listen to him. How far ne had 
succeeded in getting them over to his plans, I 
couldn’t tell till just now. I had stowed myself 
away in the coil of the hawser, just before the 
bi^khead of his cabin, where I lay in a dark shad- 
ow, so that no one could see me, when I heard a 
man talking to him. I made out that he had al- 
most got his fetters off his limbs, and that the other 
people would be shortly free of theirs ; and that 
they kneAV where the arms were to be found ; and 
that as soon as they had got them, they would make 
a rush on deck, and throw overboard all who 
wouldn’t join them. Then they were to carry the 
schooner to the coast of Africa, to the very place 
where all Captain Delano’s gold is stowed away.” 

How much of this story might be true, and how 
much imagination, I could not tell ; but it was too 
serious a matter to allow any risk to be run, so 1 
ordered him to slip below, and to beg Mr. Yernon 
would at once join me on deck with his pistols. 
He was then to make his way forward, and to rouse 
up Watson, with directions to him to come to us. 
Bcbby was so quick in his mov^^ments, that before 
a minute had passed they both joined me. They 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 277 

were but just in time, when some dark heads were 
seen rising up above, the combings of the hatch- 
way. Before, however, they had time to make 
their footing good on the deck, Mr. Yeriion, Wat- 
son, and I, had sprung on them, and knocked them 
below again with the butt-ends of our pistols. At 
the same time, before they could make another at- 
tempt, the three men forward came running aft, 
and wo quickly got the hatches on over them. 
There they and the two wretched traitors Delano 
had inveigled to release them remained, like wild 
beasts shut up in a cage, — much more dangerous, 
however, for they had the sentries’ muskets, and 
perhaps other arms which might have been con- 
veyed to them. They were, moreover, driven to 
desperation, and it therefore required great cau- 
tion in dealing with them. Mr. Yernon had re- 
course to a ruse to assist in damping their spirits. 

“ Brig ahoy !” he sung out, “ send your boat 
aboard here well armed ; our prisoners have broken 
loose. Watson,” he whispered, “ go and get the 
people up from forward. I suppose you can trust 
them.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir, they are all true enough,” he re 
plied ; “ it’s only one of the merchant-brig’s crew, 
and that poor, fellow, IS’olan, who was always weak- 
like. They ought never to have been placed as 
sentries.” 

When all the people were mustered, we outnum 
bered the pirates ; but, though we had arms in our 
hands, so had they ; and if we took the hatches off, 
we could scarcely hope that they would yield with- 
out a struggle, w^hich would very probably prove 
a bloody one. Still, if we let them remain below, 
they might commit some mischief — very probably 
set the ship on fire, or force their way out througt 
tlie bulkheads, either forward or aft, when we wer« 
24 


'278 


SALT water; or, 


not expecting tliem. Wliile this state of things 
was continuing, I happened to look over the side : 
mj eyes caught sight of an object looming tlirough 
the darkness. 

“ A sail on the weather bow !” I sung out, with 
no little satisfaction. 

We hauled up a little, and stood for her. She 
had seen us and shortened sail. 

“What vessel is that?” I inquired. 

“ A prize to his Majesty’s ship, Harold^'' an- 
swered the voice of Adam Stallman. 

“ All right ; we want your aid. Heave-to, and 
' aboard, with the people well arm- 



In a few minutes, Adam himself stood on our 
deck, with four well-armed followers. The incon- 
venience of a lengthened quarantine, to which he 
would be exposed, was not, under the circumstances 
to be taken into consideration. A plan of opera- 
tions was soon settled on. We agreed to have lan- 
terns ready, and by swinging them down into the 
hold, the moment the hatches were off, we hoped 
to discover where the pirates were stationed, and 
thus, if they attempted to lire, to be able to take 
better aim at them in return. It was an anxious 
moment. At a signal the hatches were in moment 
thrown off. Delano stood like a lion at bay, with 
a musket in his hand. He fired it at Stallman, and 
then attempted to spring up on deck. Happily, 
the ball missed its aim, and he was knocked over 
by several stout fists, which his head encountered, 
and fell like a log back into the hold. Several 
shots were exchanged, and the four pirates fought 
desperately in their hopeless attempt to regain 
their freedom. They were soon, however, over- 
powered, and borne down on the deck, without loss 
of life to eTher party. The only people who did 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


279 


net figlit were the two traitoi-s and the sick pirate, 
and he remained hound as before, having refused 
to be liberated. Delano had been stunned by his 
fall, and when he regained his senses, he found 
himself again in irons, with additional chains round 
his arms. This showed him probably that all that 
had passed was not a dream, as it might otherwise 
have appeared to him. He growled out curses 
against his ill-luck, but he had no other means of 
venting his rage and disappointment. The other 
men took the matter very coolly. It appeared to 
me that their minds were too dull and brutalized, 
and their hearts too callous, to comprehend their 
awful position. Seared in their consciences, they 
were truly given over to a reprobate mind. The 
two men who had been gained over by Delano to 
assist him we sent on board the brig, exchanging 
them for two who could be relied on, and now our 
misfortunes seemed to have come to an end. The 
young man I have spoken of belonging to the 
pirate’s crew, after this seemed to sink faster than 
ever. Mr. Yernon, in consideration of his condi- 
tion, had him removed from the immediate neigh- 
bourhood of the others, and placed within a screen 
in the afterpart of the hold. I then, at his recpiest, 
went to visit him one afternoon. He was sitting 
up, with the Bible on his knees, and his back rest- 
ing against the bulkhead, so that the light which 
came down the hatchway glanced on his forehead 
and the leaves crt‘ the sacred book. His hair, which 
was of a light brown, (almost auburn, it probably 
had been, as a lad,) was very long, and hung down 
on either side of his high, smooth, and sunburnt 
orow. His dress was that of an ordinary seaman, 
and when he was first captured it was perfectly 
neat and clean. I went and sat down on a bucket 
by his side. 


280 


SALT water; or, 


“ I have asked to see you again, sir, for you ara 
the best friend I have found for many a year,” he 
began, in a weak voice, speaking apparently not 
without pain and difficulty. “ From this book I 
have discovered, at length, the cause of all my 
crimes, my sufferings, and ultimate doom. Dis- 
obedience brought me to what I now am. I never 
learned to obey or to fear God or man. I was b(im 
in the same rank of life in which you move, perhaps 
with far greater expectations ; and when I think of 
what I might have been and what I am, it drives 
me to madness, and' I wish that I had never been 
born. My father was a man of property and posi- 
tion, and much esteemed for many virtues. My 
mother was highly educated and refined, and ot 
religious feelings. It might be supposed that a 
child of such parents could not but turn out well. — 
Unhappily for me, they loved me much, but not 
wisely. I was allowed to have my own way in all 
things. I was never taught to obey. As I grew 
up, my self-willed disposition became more and 
more developed. I could not bear constraint ot 
any sort. Too late they discovered their error. I 
had received at home some little religious instruc- 
tion ; I even knew something about the contents ot 
the Bible, but its spirit was totally beyond my 
comprehension. At last it was determined to send 
me to school. I went willingly enough, for the 
sake of the change ; but, not liking it, ran away. 
I was not sent back, but instead a'tutor was provi- 
ded for me. He was totally unfitted for his occu* 
pation, and was unable, had he tried, to make any 
good impression on me. We quarrelled so con- 
tinually, that he was dismissed, and I was persuaded 
to go to school again. Once more I ran away ; 
but this time I did not run home. I wanted to see 
the world, and I was resolved to become a sailor 


NtelL d’aRCY’S life >T SEA. 281 

r cannot bear to dwell on mj ingratitude and 
heartlessness.'- I knew that mj disappearance 
would almost break my mother’s heart, and that 
my lather would suffer equally ; yet I persevered. 
I little thought what I was to go through. A fine 
brig was on the point of sailing for the coast of 
Africa. I fell in with the master and offered to go 
with him. He asked no questions as to who I Aras, 
or where I came from ; but, wanting a boy, he 
shipped me at once. The next day we were at 
sea, and all means of tracing me w^ere lost. I was 
not ill-treated ; for the Captain, though bad enough 
in many respects, had taken a fancy to me. We 
were to engage, I found, in the slave-trade. At 
first, I was shocked at the barbarities I witnessed, 
but soon got acoustoimjd to them. We did not 
always keep to that business. The profits were not 
large enough to satisfy our avarice ; and even pi - 
racy we did not hesitate to commit at times, when 
opportunity oflbred. At length the brig was cast 
away, and many of the crew, and all our ill-gotten 
gains were lost. I, with two or three others, who 
escaped, shipped on board a Spanish slaver. We 
changed from bad to worse. Knives were in con- 
stant requisition ; and more than once I dyed my 
hands in blood. I gained a name, though a bad 
one ; and was feared, if nat loved. Such was the 
training — such the scenes of my youth. After a 
time, I began to weaiy of the life, and wished to 
see English faces, and to hear English spoken once 
more, — so, finding a vessel short of hands returning 
home, I ran from the slaver, and shipped on board 
her. W e were cast away on the south coast of 
England ; — many of my shipmates never reached 
the land. I was picked up by a boat’s crew when 
aimost exhausted, and was carried by them into a 
cave neai the shore. 


24 .* 


282 


SALT water; ok, 


“ They belonged to a large band of smugglers — 
their leader one of the most daring and successful 
on the coast. I was too much hurt to be moved 
for some days, and passed the time listening to 
their adventures, which they were at no pains to 
conceal. I became so much interested in their 
mode of life, that a few words of encouragement 
from their chief, who was known under the name 
of Myers, induced me to join them. I thought I 
would take a few cruises with him before I paid a 
visit to my liome, to inquire for my father and 
mother. A wild life I spent for some time. Our 
lawless occupation led us into many acts of vio- 
lence, in which I was never backward. One you 
are cognizant of. I was in the cavern when you 
and your commanding officer were brought there, 
and I assisted in hanging you over the pit. I was 
a favourite with Myers, and he trusted me entirely. 
When he was obliged to leave the country, I had 
resolved to start homeward ; but was engaged in 
running a cargo on shore, when I was captured by 
the revenue men, and after an imprisonment of 
some months, sent on board a man-of-war ; she was 
bound for the coast of Africa. I laughed at the 
climate which carried off many of my shipmates ; 
but the discipline of a king’s ship did not suit me, 
and I took an early opportunity of running from 
her. 

“ I lived among the blacks for some time ; but it 
was a weary life, and, finding a trader homeward 
bound, I got on' board, and at length reached Liv- 
erpool. I went to my father’s house : both he 
and my mother were alive, but I had great dif- 
ficulty in persuading them of my identity. When 
they were convinced of it, they were ready to 
receive me like the Prodigal : but I had not re- 
pented. I was not fit to dwell with them. I felt 


NEIL D’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


283 


(ike a wild beast among lambs. I had not an idea 
in common with them. When the novelty wore 
off, my evil habits came uppermost. I asked my 
lather for money. He told me that he wished me 
to embrace some regular calling, and desired to 
know what I would choose. I laughed at the 
notion. He still declined to give me the sum I 
asked for, but I insisted that I must have it. My 
looks alarmed him, and, at length, he reluctantly 
gave it me. With it I set off for Liverpool, where 
I soon spent it. Then the first pang of . remorse 
came across me. I thought of the quiet calm of 
that home for which I had so completely unfitted 
myself. I was meditating returning to it once 
more, and asking my father to explain his wishes, 
when, as I was sauntering along the quays, I en- 
countered Myers. He was much disguised, but 
he knew me and stop]:)ed me. He told me that he 
was engaged in a scheme by which a rapid fortune 
was to be made ; that he could not then unfold it ; 
but. that, if I would ship on board a vessel with 
him, he would explain it Avhen we were at sea. — 
My impulse was to refuse ; but I was tired and 
weary, and consented to enter a tavern with him. 
He there plied me with liquor till all my scruples 
vanished, and I became once more his slave. 

What occurred on board that vessel I cannot 
now tell ; but you will probably know ere long. — 
But the favour I have to ask of you is, that if I die, 
as I hope to do before our trial, you will find out 
my parents, and tell them, not all the truth, but 
how you encountered me on the point of death, 
and that I died repentant.” 

I promised the unhappy young man that I 
would do as he desired, and, at his request, I took 
down the name and address of his parents. 

I have often since thought, as I recollected this 


284 


SALT WATER; OR, 


stoiy, that it parents did but consider the misery 
they were storing up for themselves and their chil- 
dren by neglecting the precepts of the wise King 
of Israel, they would, oftener than they do, search 
that book for counsel and advice, and would teach 
their children also to seek instruction from its 
copious pages. 

Oh ! my young friends, remember that you can 
not live well without some rule of conduct, any 
more than you can steer a ship across the ocean 
without a compass or knowledge of the stars. — 
Then, let me urge you to take the best rule you 
can find ; and where, let me ask, does there exist 
one comparable, in any way, to that found in the 
Proverbs of Solomon ? If you would be truly wise, 
learn them by heart, and remember them always. 

We were very thankful when, at length; we 
reached Malta harbour. Of course we were put 
^ into quarantine, but we were relieved from the 
charge of our prisoners. To his own surprise, as 
well as mine, Charles Adams — so he called him- 
self — the young man whose short history I have 
just narrated, still survived, and there appeared 
every probability that he would be able to undergo 
his trial. Our first inquiry was to ascertain if any 
news had been received of the Ariadne \ but 
nothing had been heard ot her, and poor Mr. Yer- 
non was doomed still longer to endure the tortures 
of suspense. 

At last, our quarantine was concluded, the pi- 
rates were carried off to prison, and we returned 
on board our ship, which had come in from a cruise 
just in time to receive us. For several days we 
did nothing but talk about our. adventures with 
/>m* own messmates, as well as wuth various people 
who came off to see us. I got great credit for the 
way in which I had saved the brig from being 


NEIL d’aRCY’s life at SEA. 


285 


blown up ; though, as I was as much interested as 
any one else in me success of the performance, I 
cannot say that I thought I had done any great 
thing. 

Poor Bobby Smudge came in, too, for his share 
of praise for having informed us of tlie plot of the 
pirates to retake the schooner ; and, most certainly, 
he had been the means of saving all our lives, ^so 
one, after this, attempted to bully him, and I ob- 
serv^^d a marked improvement in his appearance 
and character. 

The trial of the pirates came on at once ; and 
the Harold was kept in harbour, that we might 
attend it as witnesses. I will not enter into minute 
particulars. ' The leading facts of the case will be 
of sufficient interest. Evidence had been collected 
to prove that the WilliGum had sailed from England 
with one description of cargo, and that her mastei* 
liad disposed of various articles not among it. To 
account for this. Captain Delano replied that he 
had fallen in with an abandoned ship, and had 
taken part of her cargo out of her. He stood bold 
and unabashed, as if confiding in his innocence ; 
but his countenance fell when two of his own crew 
appeared in the witness-box, and he was informed 
that they had turned King’s evidence. 

“ Then there is a conspiracy against me, and my 
life will be sworn away,” was his reply. 

Nothing tliat he could say, however, made any 
one doubt his guilt. 

I was in hopes that the young man in whom I 
had taken so much interest would have been al- 
lowed to turn King’s evidence, but I found that he 
had refused to do so. 

“ No,” said he, when asked the question ; “ I do 
not wish to preserve my own worthless life by aid- 


286 


SALT water; or, 


ing in the condemnation of others. If I am found 
guilty,. I am ready to sufler with them.” 

Nothing, I found, would alter his determination 
When brought into dock, he was far too weak to 
stand ; but there was a look of calm contentment 
in his countenance — might describe it almost as 
happiness — seldom borne by a person in his awful 
position. His appearance excited much interest 
in all those who saw him, though few were aware 
of the mighty change which had taken place with- 
in his bosom, and still less of the cause of that 
change. How different did he look from the rest ! 
No ferocity, no callousness, no stoical indifference, 
no assumption of innocence could be traced in any 
one of his features. Calm and thoughtful, he sat 
watching the proceedings, as one deeply interest- 
ed in their result. People could scarcely believe 
their senses when tliey heard the evidence given 
against him. Who more blood-thirsty, who more 
eager for plunder, who so regardless of the terror 
and sufferings of others, as Charles Adams ? 

From the evidence brought out in court, it ap- 
peared that Delano, late master of the William 
brig, belonged to New York, in the United States 
of America. Though of most respectable parents, 
at an early age he had taken to evil courses, and 
was at length compelled to leave his native city 
for some notorious act of atrocity. His- plausible 
manners, however, enabled him after a time to get 
command of several merchant-men in succession. 
One after another, they were cast away under very 
suspicious circumstances. The underwriters suffer- 
ed, and the owners built larger and finer vessels, 
while he had evidently more money than ever at 
command. It now appeared, by the evidence of 
one of the prisoners, who had sailed with him, that 
one at least he had purposely cast away, for the 


NEIL B'AKCY’S life AT SEA. 


287 


purpose of obtaining the insurance, sbo being in 
Bured for a far larger amount than she was worth. 
After this, he got into the employment of a highly 
respectable hrm in Liverpool, and sailed in com- 
mand of a fine brig for the Mediterranean. Here 
was a good opening for making an honest liveli- 
hood ; but such a course did not suit the taste of 
Delano. Several of his crew, brought up in the 
slave-trade, or as smugglers, w'ere ill-disposed men ; 
others were weak, ignorant, and unprincipled, and 
were easily gained by his persuasions to abet him 
in his evil designs. Finding, after they had been 
some time at sea together, that neither his mates 
nor his crew were likely to refuse joining in any 
project he might suggest, he boldly proposed to 
them to turn pirates ; and not only to plunder any 
vessels they might fall in with, wdiose crews were 
unable to ofier resistance, but, by putting them out 
of the w^ay, to prevent all chance of detection. 
They waited, however, till they got into the Medi- 
terranean, and they there fell in with a fine brig, 
out of London, laden with a valuable cargo. They 
surprised and overpowered the crew, whom they 
confined below, while they plundered her of every 
thing valuable. Some of her crew had recognized 
them. To let them live would certainly lead to 
their own detection ; so they scuttled the ship, and 
remained by her till slie sunk beneath the waves, 
with the hapless people they had plundered on 
board. Then they went on their way rejoicing, 
and confident that no witnesses existed of their 
crime. They knew^ not of the Eye above which 
had watched them ; they thought not of the aveng 
ing witness in their own bosoms. In the wdldest 
revels and debauchery they spent their, ill-gotten 
wealth. Tliis time they were true to each other ; 
and if any one suspected that their gold w^as ob- 


288 


SALT WATER; OR, 


taiaed by iiiifuir means, it was found impossible 
to prove any thing against them. It was before 
this, I believe, tliat Delano had attempted to carry 
out some smuggling transaction at Malta, and had 
been thrown into prison ; on being liberated from 
which, ruined in fortune, he had taken to the des- 
perate courses I have described. He next got 
command of the William brig, in which he was 
joined by four of liis old crew. Two were put in 
by the owners, — the carpenter and another man. 
He would willingly have sailed without them. He 
was also joined by an old comrade. Bill Myers, 
who had just lost his cutter off Portland. He had 
no fears of finding any opposition to his projects 
from his scruples. The William lay alongside the 
Helen, which vessel was taking in a rich cargo. 
He easily excited the cupidity of his crew by point- 
ing it out to them. His own vessel had a cargo of 
very inferior value — chiefly, I believe, of earthen- 
ware. The William sailed a short time before 
the Helen. He first proposed the plan of plunder- 
ing her to the four old pirates. They did not offer 
the slightest objection, but expressed their doubts 
whether all the crew would join them. 

“ Tliey must be made to d^ it,” answered Delano, 
fiercely. 

Myers at once acceded to Delano’s proposal.— 
Charles Adams was the next to join them. They 
now felt themselves strong enough to talk openly 
of their project. Each man boasted of the deeds 
of atrocity he had committed with impunity, 
especially of their last act of piracy, and of the 
mode in which they had spent the proceeds of their 
crime. Tliey told tales of the buccaneers of old, — 
of the adventures of pirates in their own day, . of 
which they had heard, and of some with which 
they were acquainted, of the hoards of wealth diev 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 289 

had acquired. When they Ibiiiid that these stories 
had not sufficient effect with some of their shipmates, 
they applied to Delano, and liquor was freely served 
out. Most of those who had before resisted now 
consented, in their drunken state, to join in the pro- 
posed sclieme. The most persevering and eagei 
tempter was the mate. If he could not persuade, ^ 
he laughed awa}^ ^he scruples of the more honest 
or more timid. 

“ Detection ! nonsense !” he exclaimed. “ Who 
can ever find it out. Who can know it, unless you 
go and talk of it yourselves ? What’s the reason 
against it ? Let’s be men ! Let’s be above such 
folly ! If they go to the bottom — why, a gale ot 
wind and a started butt might easily send them 
there ; so where’s the difference ? In one case, 
their rich cargo would go with them ; now, you 
see, shipmates, we shall get it. So, hurra for the 
black fiag, and overboard with all scruples !” 

How, however glaring the folly and wickedness 
of such reasoning may appear to us, it seemed very 
tempting and sensible to the miserable men to 
whom it was addressed. The carpenter only and 
another man, refused to drink, or to participate in 
any w^ay in the project. They could not, however, 
turn the rest from their intentions. The treach- 
erous mode in which tlie Helen was taken posses- 
sion of, I have already described. The carpenter 
alone held out; the other man pretended to join 
them, with the hope, it ^peared, of saving the 
lives of their prisoners. When they had mastered 
the crew of the Helen^ the pirates jeered and 
laughed at them, as they were removing the cargo, 
and, bound as they were, even kicked and struck 
them, and treated them with every indignity. — 
Tli^y then compelled the carpenter to accompany 
them on board, with his tools, and, holding a pistol 
26 


290 


SALT water; or, 


at his head, made him hore holes in the ship’s hot 
tom. No one appeared to have been wilder oi 
more savage than Adams. Having completed 
this nefarious work, as they thought, effectually, 
the pirates left their victims to their fate. They 
would certainly have returned to remedy their 
mistake, and to send the Helen more speedily to 
the bottom, when they caught sight of a ship ot 
war in the distance. They watched impatiently, 
but still the Helen floated. At length the strange 
sail drew near, and, fearful of being found by her 
in the neighbourhood of the plundered vessel, they 
stood away under every stitch of canvas they 
could set. Scarcely had the deed been committed 
than each began to fear that the others would betray 
him; and, as if oaths could bind such wretches 
effectually, they all agreed to swear, on crossed 
swords, that they would never divulge what had 
occurred. They compelled the carpenter and the 
other honest man to join them in their profane 
oath, threatening to blow out their brains forth- 
with, if they refused. It seems strange that men 
guilty of such crimes should make use of the sign 
of the cross to confirm their oaths, and call God 
especially to witness their misdeeds. What ex- 
traordinary perversity such is of reason ! Yes ; 
but are not those we mix with every day guilty of 
similar wickedness and madness, when, in tneir 
common conversation, they call on the name of 
the Most High God to witness to some act of folly, 
if not of vice, of extravagance, of cruelty, or sense- 
lessness ? 

The ph’ates sailed first for Leghorn, where they 
sold part of the plundered cargo, and spent the 
proceeds in a way to excite much suspicion. Tliey 
then sailed for the island of Sardinia; but they 
there found that they were already suspected - 


NEIL d’ARCY'S life AT SEA. 


m 


Nothing could be more foolhardy than their visit 
to Malta, where the crew spent, their money in 
rigging themselves out in gold chains, silk waist- 
coats and green coats. How their conduct should 
not have excited suspicion I cannot say ; but it 
does not appear that the people with whom they 
dealt thought any thing was wrong. It is one of 
the numberless examples to prove that criminals 
are deprived even of ordinary wisdom. Delano, 
however, saw, from the way his crew were behav- 
ing, that, if he remained long at Malta, they would 
inevitably bring destruction on themsel ves. Having, 
therefpre^'got them on board, he sailed for Smyrna. 
On the voyage, Myers tried to induce them to 
plunder other vessels ; but none they could venture 
to attack fell in their way. Tlieir rage against 
Myers was excessive when they found that he had 
attempted to blow them up, and that he had done 
so doubtless for the purpose of getting possession 
of a considerable amount of treasure which had 
been left on shore in the hands of an agent of 
Delano’s. I afterwards heard that he had in all 
probability succeeded, as the agent had stated 
that he had presented an order from Delano for its 
payment about the very moment we were taking 
possession of the brig, and, as he thought, being 
blown into the air. Search was made for him 
throughout Smyrna before, we left the place, and 
continued for some time afterwards ; but the last 
accounts had brought no intelligence of him, and 
*t was concluded that he had escaped in disguise. 

During the greater part of the trial, Delano had 
maintained his confidence and composure ; but at 
length the evidence of his own people, and the 
master and crew of the became so over- 

whelming that he lost all hope, and, overcome 
by the most abject fear, sunk down, and would 


292 


SALT WATEK; or , 


have faLen, nad lie not been supported. Eecove^ 
ing himself a little, he broke forth into earnest 
petitions that his life might be spared. He made 
the most trivial and weak excuses for his conduct, 
utterly unlikely to avail him any thing. He de- 
clared that he had been led on by My^ers ; that 
his crew had forced him to consent to piracy ; that 
he had endeavoured to dissuade them from it, and 
that the fear of death alone had induced him to 
consent. Hothing he could say could, of course, 
alter the .decision of his judges ; and he, with six 
of his companions, was condemned to be hung at 
the fore-yardarms of the William, then lying in 
Quarantine Harbour. It was dreadful to hear 
the shriek of despair to which Delano now gave 
vent. 

“Mercy! mercy! mercy!” he cried. “Oh, spare 
my life ! I am unfit to die ! Send me to toil from 
day to day in chains, with the meanest in the land ; 
but, oh, take not away that which you cannot re- 
store.” 

“ Let him be removed,” said the Judge of the 
Court ; and he was borne away, still crying out for 
mercy. 

The miserable man, who had never shown mercy 
to others, still besought it for himself. The other 
prisoners said not a word in their defence. One 
only voice was heard when all others were hushed 
in the court. . It was solemn, though hollow and 
weak. 

“ Our doom is most just. We suffer rightly ; 
ind may God have mercy on our souls,” were the 
words spoken. 

I recognized the voice of Charles Adams. I saw 
him the night before his execution. He was calm 
and happy. 

“ Oh, that my fate,” said he, “ might be a warn 


NEIL d’akCY’s life AT SEA. 293 

mg to others; and I should feel still more con- 
tented to die.” 

He begged to keep my Bible to the last, promis- 
ing to give it to the Chaplain to be delivered to 
me. I will not dwell on the dreadful particulars 
of tliQ execution. hTo Maltese could be found will 
ing to perform the oJGfice of executioner. The chief 
of the police, therefore, ordered a swinging stage 
to be formed on either side of the vessel, on which 
the criminals were placed with ropes round their 
necks, secured to the fore-yardarms, three on each 
side. These stages were secured in their horizontal 
position by ropes rove through blocks made fast to 
the fore-rigging, with lanyards at the end/. As the 
Chaplain reached a certain word in the Service, 
the seamen stationed at the lanyards were ordered 
to cut them. This was done ; and, the stages sink- 
ing from under their feet, the miserable men were 
launched into eternity. A barge was then brought 
alongside, into which the bodies were lowered, 
and carried to Fort Kicasoli, at the entrance of 
the great harbour. Four of the bodies, being sewn 
up in tarred canvas, were hung in chains to a lofty 
gibbet, while two were buried beneath it. For 
many long months afterwards the four pirates hung 
there — a terrible and disgusting sight, and an 
awful warning to all who might be inclined to 
])ursue the same evil course. 

The Chaplain returned me my Bible the follow 
ing day. Within it I found a note from Adanis, 
first thanking me warmly for my attention to him ; 
and it then continued, — “ Shameful as is my mer 
ted fate, I would that all my young countrymen 
may know it. Tell all you meet that they are sent 
Into this world, not to live for themselves, but for 
others — as a place of trial, not of amusement ; that 
if they would secure contentment now, and happi 


294 


SALT water; or, 


ness for the future, they must, first of all things, 
Learn to conquer themselves ; they must overcome 
their tempers — their passions — their love of ease — 
of self-indulgence ; they must remember that they 
are surrounded by snares and temptations of all 
sorts, all allowed to exist for the purpose of trying 
them ; that the devil is always going about, ever 
ready to present the bait most likely to lure them 
to destruction. I entreat you — I adjure you — to 
make this known wherever you can. The knowl- 
edge of this may save numbers from ruin. It 
^annot too often be brought before the minds of 
the young. I was ignorant of it. I thought that J 
had a right to follow my own inclinations — that it 
was manly to do so ; and, oh ! how sorely have I 
suffered for my ignorance ! — how bitterly do I re- 
pent my infatuation ; yet, miserable as is my fate, 
if I can but prove a warning to othem, I shall not 
liave lived in vain.” 


CHAPTER XX. 

CAN SHE BE THE AEIADNE? — SAIL FOR THE REEF COAST- - 
DISCOVER THE LOST VESSEL — MAKE A PRISONER — ADVEN' 
TURES ON SHORE — VISIT THE OLD SHEIKH — FIND JACK 

STRETCHER — HOW WE DID THE EEEFIANS JACK AND HIS 

HORNPIPE OUR FLIGHT — PURSUED — ESCAPE. 

So completely had Mr. Yernon’s health and 
spirits given way, that we on board the Ha/rold 
were afraid he would have to leave the ship, and 
go home. At this juncture a merchant-brig came 
in from the westward, and the master reported that, 
having been driven close in on the African coast, 
he had seen a vessel, apparently a complete wreck 
on shore. He stated that he had stood-in to ex 


NEIL D’AIIOY’s life AT SEA. 295 

amino her more closely, when, seeing through his 
glass a number of armed men come down and pre- 
pare to launch their boats, he judged it prudent to 
stand-off out of their reach. Mr. Dunnage obtained 
this important information, and instantly brought 
it on board. Mr. Yernon’s eye brightened as he 
Jieard it ; for hope, almost extinguished, once more 
dawned within him. 

Captain Poynder, who felt a deep interest in the 
fate of Major JSTorman and his daughter, easily 
managed to get ordered down to the Barbary coast 
to examine into the matter. Having ascertained 
from the master of the merchantman the spot, as 
nearly as he could describe it, where he had seen 
the wreck, we made sail for the westward. We 
came off the coast about dusk, and then hove-to. 
“ Boats away !” was on this occasion a welcome 
sound ; for we knew that it portended thaX there 
was work to be done. Mr. Yernon commanded 
one of the boats, and I went with him. Stallman 
had charge of the second, and Dicky Sharpe, who, 
since our trip to Smyrna, had much improved in 
steadiness, accompanied him ; while Stanfield, an- 
other mate, went in a third. A light gun was 

E laced in the bow of each boat; and each man 
ad a musket and brace of pistols, as well as his 
cutlass ; so that we were well armed, and ready for 
any thing. We were in high spirits, though we 
knew full well that it was no party of pleasure we 
were on ; for, if discovered, we might expect some 
pretty sharp fighting, as the inhabitants of that 
part of the coast are the most warlike and deter- 
mined pirates along the shores of the Mediter- 
ranean. With muffled oars and in perfect silence 
we pulled towards where the wreck was supposed 
to be. There was /lo moon; but the stars of a 
southern clime were shining — as they well know 


296 


SALT WATER; OR, 


how to do in that region — so that we could dis 
tingiiisli tlie dark outline of the coast, backed by a 
fange of high mountains. The only sound was 
from the splash of our oars, which, as they rose 
rapidly from the water, let drop a sparkling shower 
of phosphorescent fire. I steered, while Mr. Yer- 
non, with his night-glass, swept the coast, in the 
hopes of discovering the wreck. We got close in 
with the shore ; but not a sign of her was to be 
seen. 

“Avast pulling, and let the other boats close 
up !” he whispered. 

When the boats had got near enough, he ordered 
Stallman to pull to the eastward, and directed me 
to steer to the west, and Stanfield to follow us. 
That the coast was pretty thickly inhabited we had 
strong evidence ; for so close in with it were we, 
that we could hear dogs barking, and music, and 
even human voices ; while now and then ihe re- 
port of firearms showed that some Arabs were 
coming home from hunting, or were firing olf their 
muskets at some festival or other. We had pulled 
at least five miles along the coast, when I fancied 
that I discerned, still farther on, some dark object 
on the sands. We pulled up to it, and there, sure 
enough, lay a stranded vessel. Mr. Yernon no\> 
directed Stanfield to wait off about a quarter of a 
mile, while we went in and tried to board the vessel, 
to ascertain positively what she was. 

“ Should any accident happen to us, or should 
we be taken prisoners,” he continued, “ you will 
wait till nearly dawn to render us assistance, in 
case you have an opportunity, and then make the 
best of your way back to the ship. Captain 
Poynder will then, without doubt, devise some plan 
for rescuing us or any other persons we may find 
on shore.” Stanfield, of course, knew very well 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


297 


what he meant by this, and promised to keep a 
bright look-out, whatever might occur. Usmg still 
more caution than ever, we approached the vessel 
She lay with her head in shore, in a small inlet, 
and it appeared much more likely that she had 
purposely been hauled in there, than that she had 
been driven on shore. There was ample water for 
our boat right under her stern. The stern- windov s 
were open. Holding on by the rudder-chain, Mr. 
Vernon climbed up, and got in at a sternport. 
Without asking leave, 1 followed his example, and 
the bowman then handed us up a lantern. I had 
a match-box in my pocket. We struck a light and 
lighted the lantern, and then commenced an ex- 
amination of the cabin. At the first glance we 
saw it vras that of an English merchantman. There 
were the state cabins on either side, — tlie buffets 
for plate and crockery, the neat book-case, the 
racks for charts and telescopes, the sofa at one end, 
and the fire-place, all showing an attention to the 
comfort of any passengers who might be on board. 
Every thing valuable had, however, been carried 
away, the more cumbrous articles alone remaining. 
Mr. Vernon looked round witli deep anxiety de- 
picted on his countenance. “ Yes, H’Arcy, this is, 
indeed, the Ariadne. I know her well,” he whis- 
pered. “ I myself put up that book-case, and 
screwed in those hooks for a cot in the state-cabin. 
Oh ! what can their fate be ? I must ascertain it 
without delay.” 

“ It would never do to go on shore as you are 
at present, sir ; you would be taken prisonei-, or 
murd«red outright, to a certainty,” I replied. H<? 
was silent for a minute. 

“ You are right, lYArcy, you are right,” he re- 
plied, in a dejected tone. ‘‘The affair requires 
time and great circumspection. These people are 


298 


SALT water; ok, 


not to be trifled with, I know. Force alone wib 
not succeed, or I am certain Captain Poynder 
would land every man who can be spared from 
tbe ship, and would compel these Peefians to let 
us know what has become of their captives.” 

“ Yes, sir, and every man would gladly follow, 
wherever you might lead,” I replied. 

“I know they would — know they would, 
D’Arcy,” said he. “ But let us take a look over 
the ship, and perhaps we may find out something 
to direct our proceedings.” 

We opened the cabin door cautiously, and crept 
up the companion-ladder. The hatch was off. — 
We got on deck: no one was there. Shrouding 
the lantern, we crept along the deck, and descended 
into the main hold. The entire cargo had been 
removed. We concluded that the vessel had no 
one on board, and were about to return, when I 
suggested that we should look into the forepeak. — 
We therefore moved cautiously, as before, along 
the deck, and were descending the ladder, when 
Mr. Yernon touched my leg. 

“There is some one breathing down here,” he 
said, “be prepared for a rush.” 

When we got to the bottom of the ladder, as he 
threw the rays of the lantern round the place, 
they fell on the sleeping form of a young Arab, 
dressed in a turban, and his white naick folded 
gracefully round him. The instant the light fell 
on his eyes, he started up, with a look of mute 
astonishment, and laid his hand on the hilt of a 
dagger by his side. Before he could unsheath it 
Mr. Yernon had thrown himself upon him, and, 
wrenched it from his grasp, while I, following, we 
without much difficulty secured him ; for, though 
graceful and active in appearance, he had not 
much muscular power. He did not call out.— ^ 


NEIL d’AKCY’S life AT SEA. 


299 


Perhaps he disdained to do so. But to prevent 
him, should he show any inclination to call for 
help, Mr. Yernon rather unceremoniously thrust a 
handkerchief into his mouth. 

“ IS^ow, hurry, D’Arcy, and call up one of tha 
men to help to carry this lad into the boat. Here 
is a prize worth having, indeed,” he said. “ He 
may be of incalculable service to us.” I did as I 
was ordered, and he quickly got the lad securely 
bound and up on deek. As we were dragging him 
along, the handkerchief fell out of his mouth, and 
he gave a shriek, which showed that he was no 
willing prisoner. The noise, however, only made 
us hurry him along the faster down the compan- 
ion-ladder, and out at the port into the boat. We 
handed him along into the stern-sheets, and then, 
Mr. Yernon giving the order to shove off, we 
backed out of the creek, and got the boat’s head 
i-ound, to pull out to sea. We were only just in 
time, for the lad’s cry had attracted the notice of 
his friends, and we could hear people shouting, as 
they ran down to the beach, to learn who it was 
that had cried out. Unfortunately the splash of 
our oars attracted their notice, and they began 
firing away at us, as fast as they could load their 
matchlocks. “Give way, my lads, give way I” 
cried Mr. Yernon, more from habit than that the 
men required any inciting to pull fast, as the shot 
came splattering about us. The young Moor made 
one or two attempts to rise, evidently with the 
intention of springing into the water and swim- 
ming on shore again ; but we held him down ; and 
as we got further off, he either saw that the at- 
tempt would be useless, or, from something lie 
learned from the shouts of his countrymen, he 
thought it wiser to remain quiet. We were con- 
gratulating ourselves on none of the shot reaching 


oOO 


SALT watek; ok, 


116, and fancied that we were getting ont of dan 
ger, when we saw a dark object glide out from a 
creek, or harbour, to the westward, folloived by 
another, and then another, which we at once made 
out to be row-boats, pulling probably some twenty 
oars or so, and famed for their speed. We had the 
start of them, however, by half a mile or more ; 
and, as our two gigs were far from slow coaches, 
we did not altogeuier despair of escaping. Still 
the odds were fearfully against us ; and, even if we 
were not killed outright, potato-digging and water- 
drawing for the rest of our days was not a pleasant 
prospect for contemplation, independent of failing 
in the object we had in view. This made all 
hands bend to their oars with redoubled vigour. — 
Happily, the row-boats had no guns in their bows, 
or, if they had, the people had forgotten their pow- 
der, or shot, as the few bullets which reached us 
now and 'then, were the only missiles we had to 
dread. Well, away we pulled, with the Keefian 
row-boats after us, our great hopes being that we 
should decoy them within range of the Harold^ s 
guns, and then, if we could bag a boatload, we 
might hope to treat advantageously for any pris- 
oners they might have taken. We made the 
dark, smooth water hiss and bubble under our 
bows, as we clove our rapid way through it, throw- 
ing up a mass of shining foam before us, and 
leaving a line of liquid fire in our wake. We soon 
gained more hope of escape, from the rate at 
which our pursuers came on ; and we began to sus- 
pect that the boats, probably in the hurry of the 
moment, were manned with old men and lads, 
and any one who was at hand ; and that they were 
likely rather to fall off than to increase their speed. 
This proved to be the case. We gained on them 
slowly at first, but more rapidly by degrees, till W9 


NEIL DAECY'S LIFE AT SEA. 


301 


autuallj ran them out of sight. Our next husinesa 
was to find our ship ; and 1 kept a bright look-out 
for her. Our young captive, meantime, lay at the 
bottom of the boat, and when he found that we had 
escaped from his countrymen, he seemed to take 
tilings very coolly ; and when Mr. Yemon assured 
him that we meant him no injury, he replied, that 
if we took his life, his tribe would some day cut us 
up piecemeal, and throw the bits to the jackals. — 
As we were pulling along, we heard a shout, which 
proved to come from Stallman, who had, of course, 
seen no wreck ; but he had discovered a spot where 
the M^ater was deep up to the shore, and where 
there appeared to be no inhabitants, so that he had 
been able to pull close in, and could have landed, 
if necessary. We now altogether pulled out to 
sea, and in another hour fell in with the frigate. — 
She then stood off shore, and by daylight we were 
out of sight of land, so that the Reefians could not 
have guessed who their visitors could have been. 
1 think that I before have said, that Mr. Yernon 
was a great linguist. He spoke Arabic perfectly, 
and was thus able to hold communication with our 
young prisoner, whose fears, before long, he suc- 
ceeded completely in silencing, and whose confi- 
dence also he soon appeared to have gained. All 
the morning Mr. Yernon was in earnest conversa- 
tion with the young Reefian, and, by his counten- 
ance, he appeared to be gaining information of a 
highly interesting character. He then went into 
the Captain’s cabin, and, after a long conversation 
with him, the ship’s course was shaped for Tan- 
giers. 

Just before we reached that place, he called me 
to him. 

“ D’Arcy,” he said, “ I have remarked your stea- 
diness and discretion above vour years ; and, as J 
25 


:i02 ' SALT WATEll; OK, 

have a difficult, and — will not conceal it -Irom 
you — a hazardous expedition to make, in which a 
companion to assist me would be very valuable, I 
wish to know whether, if the Captain will allow 
you, you would be willing to accompany me?” 

"Where is the midshipman who would not have 
answered as I did, and say that J should be delight- 
ed, and that the more danger the better fun ? In 
fact, my heart almost came into my mouth at the 
proposal ; and my only fear was, that the Captain 
might put his veto on it. 

“Oh! just tell him, sir,” said I, “that I have 
neither father nor mother, nor brother nor sister ; 
and I don’t think that the great Counsellor D’ Arcy 
would break his heart if any thing happened to me, 
nor bring an action against him for expending a 
midshipman uselessly. My other uncle is a naval 
officer, and he would never dream of objecting.” 

I do not know if these reasons had any vreight 
with the Captain, but he granted his consent to my 
accompanying Mr. Yfnion, who forthwith gave me 
a sketch of his proposed plan of proceeding. 

“ You must know, D’Arcy,” said he, “ that the 
young Keefian informs me that the Ariadne was 
driven in-shore by a heavy gale, and that before 
she had time to haul off, a calm came on, when 
several boats, manned by his people, pulled off to 
her. The master, who seems to have been a brave 
fellow, had no notion of yielding without a blow, 
and, arming his crew, gave them a warm recep- 
tion. Several of the Keefians were killed and 
wounded before tliey could make good their foot- 
ing on board. The gallant master was killed, and 
so were more than half his crew. Major Horman, 
and the rest of the people, escaped without a 
wound, though they expected to be cut to pieces ; 
Dut tlieir demnce had so excited the admiration of 


303 


NEIL D'ARCY^S LIFE AT SEA. 

tlieir captors, that they were, instead, treated with 
considerable kindness, though ultimately marched 
off as prisoners. Miss Norman was discovered in 
the cabin ; but when it was known who was hei 
father he was allowed to accompany her. The 
people who captured the bri^ belong to a tribe 
ruled over by a powerful chiet, who resides some 
miles along the coast. He seems to have claimed 
the brig as his own perquisite ; and this youth, who 
is a relation of his, was living on board, to take 
care of her. Miss Norman and her father likewise 
became his property, but I cannot speak my grati- 
tude to Heaven, on finding that she is treated with 
the most perfect respect, while her father is em 
ployed in the gardens of the Kaid. His young 
nephew describes him as a fierce, despotic old fel- 
low, not at all likely to give up his captives, unless 
compelled by force. He says that he is so very 
wealthy, that no temptation of a high ransom will 
influence him. This, however, 1 am resolved, 
without delay, to ascertain, and to employ every 
means in my power to liberate my frienas. He 
seems to owe no allegiance to the Emperor of Mo- 
rocco, or to any other acknowledged potentate, so 
that I will not attempt the long business of nego- 
tiation, which would, too probably, end in disap- 
pointment. At first I thought of taking the lad 
with me, but then I considered that he would be 
of more service as a hostage on board ; and I have 
promised him that, if his information be correct, 
and I succeed in recovering my friends, I will give 
him an unerring rifle and a silver-mounted dagger, 
80 that I have won him over completely to our 
interest. As I speak Arabic as well as any Turk, 
I have resolved to assume the character of a Turk 
ish jewel-merchant on a journey to buy precious 
Btones for the Sultan. I feel that I can act the 


804 


SALT WATER ; 

part very well. How does the plan strike you V' 

“Very good — capital, sir,” I answered, the ro- 
mance oftlie thing taking my fancy immensely. — 

“ But, as I do not speak a word of Arabic, or any 
Eastern language, I do not see how I am to help 
you.” 

“I have thought ot that,” said Mr. Yernon. — 

“ You must pretend to be dumb — I hope that you 
will not have to hold your tongue long. I wish 
you also to take your violin ; I do not know that 
the Turks ever play it ; but you must be my slave, 
you know — a Christian slave, not long captured — 
and that will account for your knowledge of so 
Nazarene-like an instrument. Miss ISTorman heard 
you play once on board, and you will thus certainly 
attract her notice, and be able to hold communi- 
cation with her.” 

‘‘ Oh ! excellent — excellent,” I exclaimed, en- 
chanted at finding the very event I had once 
dreamed of about to be realized. “ When are we 
to commence our adventure ?” 

“ As soon as I can arrange our costumes, and 
make other necessary preparations. Captain Poyn- 
der, after he has landed us, intends to watch off 
the coast, and to stand in at night, to be ready to 
render us any assistance we may require.” 

Two days after this conversation, a party of 
travellers were seen issuing from the ancient gates 
of the city of Tangiers, — in days long gone by, 
when Charles the Second ruled the land, held by 
a British garrison, till delivered over to the Portu- 
guese. He who seemed to be the leader of the 
party rode a strong, active horse, and was habited 
in long, dark, flowing robes, a turban of many 
folds of muslin, long yellow boots, and spurs of I 
great size. A large moustache, and a beard bushy \ 
and long, almost concealed his mouth. The ink* ' 


KEIL D^ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


806 


horn at his waist, and his want of weapons of 
defence, showed that he was a peaceable character. 
A lad also, in an Eastern dress, though of simple 
and somewhat coarse materials, followed him on a 
stout mule, which likewise carried a pair of saddle- 
bags, and a small square chest secured in front. — 
Slung over the back of the youth was a long case, 
of curious form. A dagger at his side was the only 
arm he wore. A tall man, well armed with match- 
lock and scimetar, rode ahead on a stout nag. On 
his head was the high red Moorish cap, with many 
folds of muslin twisted round it. The flowing hair 
fell over his shoulders, above which he wore a 
soolham of red cloth, while gaily-worked yellow 
boots, and a pair of spurs of cruel length and 
sharpness, adorned his feet. He evidently felt his 
importance, as the protector and fighting man of 
the party. Another personage followed, of inferior 
rank, with a mule, which carried the chief part of 
the baggage. The country through which they 
travelled was of an undulating character, but 
parched by the suns of summer, the beds of the 
winter torrents being now stony ravines, and the 
only green visible being furze and palmetto, and 
here and there patches of Indian corn not quite 
ripe, though the stubble of fine wheat and barley 
extended over a considerable portion of the ground. 

“ D’Arcy, boy, how do you like being turned 
into a young Turk?” said Mr. Yernon, calling mo 
up to him, after we had proceeded some way. 

I touched my mouth, and pointed to our escort. 

“ Hever mind them,” he replied ; “ they are, I 
am assured, faithful to the backbone, ana know 
how matters stand. There is little use giving such 
Qien half-confidences.” 

“Then,” said I, “Til make play with my tongue 


306 


SALT WATER: OIL 


while I can. I like the fuL amazingly. What do 
you propose to do, sir, next?” 

“ In the first place, when we get up to the ter- 
ritory of the old chief, Mulai Mohamed, we must 
leave our escort, and proceed alone to his village. 
We must present ourselves at his residence, and, 
inquiring whether he has jewels to sell or wishes 
Ic buy others, must endeavour to gain access to the 
inmates of his harem ; or, at all events, we must 
try to meet with Major hTorman, or some of the 
crew of the Ariadne. However, we must be 
guided entirely by circumstances.” 

It was a great satisfaction to me to be able to 
talk, for I fancied that I should have had to hold 
my tongue from the moment I set foot on shore. 
I wish that my space would allow me to describe 
my journey, for it lasted a considerable number 
of days, and was very amusing. We pushed on 
as rapidly as the strength of our steeds would al- 
low, though that was far from fast enough to suit 
Mr. Yernon’s impatience. We met with a variety 
of adventures also. At night we used to halt, and 
pitch our tent, and fetch water, and cook our sup- 
per, while our followers would sit before the fire, 
recounting their adventures, or boasting of the 
deeds of meir ancestors or friends, or telling tales 
of genii or ghouls, and a variety of other beings, 
in whose existence they firmly believe. As we 
journeyed on, we killed a quantity of game, chiefly 
partridges, which crossed our path in great num- 
bers, and now and then we got a shot at a wild 
boar, and knocked him over. At night, watch was 
always kept with a good fire, or we should have 
had the jackals, who were always howling round 
us, paying us a visit. These beasts the Moors do 
not object to eat, though they will not touch pig. 
We one day fell in with an encampment of a 


NEIL D'ARCY’s life AT SEA. ^07 

powerful tribe, the Sheikh of which insisted on my 
master, Taleb Moostafa, otherwise Lieutenant Yer- 
non, dining with him. I accompanied him for the 
pleasure of looking on, though, of course, I was 
not expected to eat likewise. On arriving at the 
tent of the Sheikh, we found him seated within it, 
on a cushion, covered with thick skin, another be- 
ing placed for the Taleb, or scribe, for to that learn- 
ed profession Mr. Yernon thought he might ven- 
tui’e to belong. A variety of compliments having 
passed, a table was brought in and placed between 
them. It was circular, about two feet in diameter, 
and scarcely more than six inches from the ground, 
richly inlaid and painted in arabesque. A large 
bowl, full of a highly-seasoned soup, with some 
sort of maccaroni in it, was first placed on the table. 
The bowl contained spoons, with which the guests 
wore to help themselves at the same time. Next 
came a plate of beef, much stewed, and garnished 
with melons ; and, lastly, a huge dish of kesksoo — 
a thick porridge, made of wheaten fiour piled up, 
which the Sheikh attacked most vigorously, while 
my master attempted to follow his example. When 
dinner was over, some of the tribe assembled on 
horseback, and played all sorts of pranks. Some 
stood on their heads while their horses went ; they 
charged each other at a rapid speed ; they changed 
places with their companions at full gallop ; then 
they would dash up to where we stood, and, dis- 
charging their muskets, wheel about and give place 
to others, who followed at their heels. Some would 
dash their haicks or turbans on the ground, and, 
leaning from their horses, would pick them up, 
without for an instant slackening their speed. Next 
they shot at a mark, a fiower on a pile of stones 
being their target ; and certainly they managed to 
hit it in a wonderlhl way. The same men, how^ 


808 


SALT WATEli; Oil, 


over, would probably have but a poor bag of gaiue 
to show after a day’s walk over the moors in Scot- 
land. Our friendly Sheikh accompanied us some 
way on our journey on the following day, with 
many good wishes for our welfare., I must leave 
out the rest of our adventures, till one evening Ha- 
lived, our chief guide, pointing to a line of lofty 
Qountains which fringed the coast, exclaimed — 

“ There, most learned Taleb, at the foot of yon- 
der mountains, you will find the residence of the 
fierce Sheikh you seek. Further we dare not go, 
as we have no wish to feel our throats being cut. 
Here we will remain till you return, if you ever 
do return, which Allah grant may soon be, though 
I am doubtful of it. If you do not come back, we 
will report your loss to your friends, and trust they 
may find means to avenge you.” 

Taleb Mohamed laughed at this speech, though 
he saw the difliculties in our way ; and next morn- 
ing, leaving our tents and heavy baggage, we en- 
tered the district of the Keefian chief. It was to- 
wards evening that we approached his dwelling, 
wliich we discovered from its superior size to the 
rest of the neighbouring sun-dried brick cottages, 
thatched with reeds. It was surrounded by a gar- 
den, full of melon plants and vines, and many 
other fruits, delicious in a hot climate, and backed 
by fields of Indian corn. Before entering the vil- 
lage, we ascended a height, whence Mr. Yernon 
took a long anxious glance over the blue sea with 
liis telescope, which he had brought with him. 

“ There she is, D’Arcy,” he exclaimed, at length, 
ill an animated tone, pointing to a white speck just 
seen above the horizon, which I made out to be a 
ship’s royal. ‘‘ I knew that Captain Poynder would 
be up to his time. How we can depend on help 
from without, if we can but find om* friends.” 


SFAh d'AROY'S life AT SEA. S09 

It was near the time that the voice of the Mu* 
eddin from the summit of the village mosque, an- 
nounced that the hour of evening prayer had ar- 
rived, and called on the faithful to worship Allah, 
when we entered the village. Without halting, 
we rode at once up to the entrance gate of the 
great man’s abode. Cool confidence afforded us 
the best chance of success. We were brought up 
at a porch, with a closed gate, in a high wall which 
ran round the mansion. We knocked loudly, and 
after a time the gate was opened by a slave, who 
talaamed low as he demanded our business. 

“To see your great, powerful, and most illus- 
trious master, &c., &c., &c.,” said Mr. Yernon, in 
Arabic. “ Tell him that I have come to treat with 
him about a matter of great importance.” 

The slave on this disappeared, keeping us out- 
side, though he shortly returned, with two or three 
more slaves and a couple of armed men. Two of 
the slaves taking our steeds, the first signed us to 
advance, and led the way through a garden full of 
sweet-scented plants, the verbena, the jessamine, 
and rose, and shaded by luxuriant vines, trailed 
on bamboo trellice-work over head, the fruit hang- 
ing down in tempting bunches within our reach. 
In front of an alcove, or summer-house, on a rich 
carpet, sat a stout old man, in flowing robes, and 
long white beard, which hung down over his breast. 
We bowed low, and then stood still before him, 
for he did not offer us cushions to sit on, while Mr. 
Yernon, paying the fullest compliments his knowl- 
edge of the language could command, opened his 
business. 

“ I do not understand clearly what all this ia 
about,” said the old Sheikh, i?^ reply. “ J ewels to 
sell and jewels to buy, Tei-haps to-morrow I may 
'jnderstand better. Come again in the forenoon ( 


SIO .. sAiS water; or, 

and bIiow me your wares, and -we w^ill see wliat^ia 
to be done.” 

Taking this remark as a signal that we were dis- 
missed, we salaamed as before, and retired down 
the garden. We had reached the entrance, when 
a slave overtook us, and informed us that his mas- 
ter would allow us to sleep in a guest-room, open- 
ing into an outer court-yard, on one side of the 
main entrance. Mr. Yernon told me afterw^ards, 
that, not having any definite plan, he thought it 
would be wise to accept the Sheikh’s offer with a 

f ood grace, ae more likely not to excite suspicion. 

he room to which we were shown was a small 
one; without windows or furniture, some little aper- 
tures over the entrance alone admitting light and 
air when the door was shut. It had the advantage, 
however, of enabling us to get out without being 
observed. Still a great difficulty remained — ^how 
we were to obtain any information about Miss Nor- 
man, in the first place ; and how we were to gain 
access to her in the second. In my character of a . 
slave, I assisted the Sheikh’s slaves in bringing in 
the box of jewels, the saddle-bags, and saddles, 
and horse-cloths, as well as our blankets, which we 
had brought to form our beds at. night. Our room 
being arranged, Mr. Yernon told me to remain 
within, while he went out to try and^ obtain some 
information in the village, advising me in the mean 
time to amuse myself with my fiddle, which had 
already delighted the ears of many of the believers 
of the Prophet of Mecca during our long journey. 
I had some misgivings about his going, for I was 
afraid that the villagers niiglit suspect his charac- 
ter, and might ill-treat him. For myself I had no 
fear as long as I could continue to feign dumbness, 
as my character easily was kept up. He had told 
the Sheikh’s people, that I was a Nazarene lad^ 


NEIL d’AKCY'S life AT SEA. 311 

wlio was ignorant of their language. Being dumb ^ 
they considered me under the peculiar care of 
Providence. 

After a little time, having recovered my spirits 
and cast all forebodings from me— which are, after 
all, but the result of a morbid imagination, or of a 
want of trust in God’s providence — I sat myself 
down on the chest, and pulling my fiddle out of its 
case, began playing away most vigorously some of 
the old tunes Hanks had taught me. I had gone 
through some five or six of them, when a voice, 
which I felt sure I had often heard, hailed : 

“ Hillo ! shipmate, w^hat part of the world do you 
come from ?” The faint light which came through 
the door was obscured by the figure of a seaman. 

“ Why !” I exclaimed, forgetting that I w^as 
dumb, as he stepped into the room, — why, if I 
can believe my senses, there is Jack Stretcher 
himself.” 

“ What ! is that you, Mr. D’Arcy ?” he answered, 
coming uj) to me, and taking my hand ; I should 
not have known you in that rum rig, sir, if it 
hadn’t been for your voice, I declare.” 

Our errand was soon explained ; and he then 
told me that, having been offered a berth as second 
mate of the Ariadne^ he had obtained his dis- 
charge from the cutter. To my great satisfaction, 
he told me that Major Horman was really a slave 
in the Sheikh’s house, and that his daughter was in 
the harem. What had become of the rest of the 
crew he could not tell. 

While I had been speaking I had* been scraping 
away to drown my voice, in case anybody came 
near. I now urged Jack to go and find the Ma 
jor, to let him know that help was at hand. 

“ Time enough by-and-bye, when he comes in 
from the fields, where they^'^e sent the poor gentle* 


SALT watek; or, 


v(12 

man to work. Tliey put me to field labour ai 
first, but they found out that I was handy as a 
rigger, so they’ve put me to refitting some of their 
craft, 'riiey’ve given me to understand that if‘ I’ll 
consent to turn Moor or Turk, or somewhat of 
that sort, and worship their Prophet, tliey ’ll make 
me a captain, or admiral for what I know, and will 
give me one of their black:eyed young women for 
a wife ; but I’ll see them all triced up at their own 
yard-arms before I changes my religion, or forgets 
my own faithful rosy-cheeked Poll at home.” 

I applauded his resolution, and charged him to 
adhere to it in case he should not escape. 

“ ^^”0 fear of me, sir, I hope,” he answered. — 
‘‘ But, I say, sir,” he added, in a serious tone, “ I 
hope Mr. Yernon, who used to be a very nice 
young gentleman when I knew^ him in the Turtle^ 
ain’t turned Turk in earnest.” 

I assured him that lie was only acting the part 
tbi a short time, which, I believed, was lawful. 

‘‘ Well, I’m glad of that, sir,” he replied. “But, 
I say, sir, what do you think ?” He looked out of 
the door, and then came back, and continued, — 
“ I see a number of these Moorish fellows coming 
here, drawn, it’s pretty clear, by your music. — 
How, I’ll just see if we can’t astonish the natives. 
Do you strike up a right jolly hornpipe, and I’ll 
toe and heel it till all’s blue, and see if I don’t 
make them understand what a real sailor can do 
with his feet when he’s inclined.” 

Tlie idea pleased me amazingly ; so I came to 
the door, and began to scrape away right merrily, 
while Jack commenced one of the wildest horn- 
pipes I ever saw danced. How he cut and shuf- 
fled, — how he crossed his feet and sprang up in the 
air, and kicked and capered, — it is almost impos- 
sible to describe. I could scarcely forbear laughing 


NEIL d’AKCY’S life AT SEA. ol3 

my sell’, especially when I saw a nun i<er of grave 
long-bearded Moors assembled round him, with 
looks of mute astonishment and admiration at hia 
agility. 

Mr. Yernon soon joined them, and was as much 
astonished, evidently, as the rest. At last, even 
Jack’s physical powers could hold out no longer, 
and, exhausted, he threw himself down on one of 
our horse-rugs near the door. He had, however, 
not remained there long when one of the Sheikh’s 
slaves made his appearance, and, salaaming Mr. 
Yernon, said that his master had been informed 
that his young follower possessed a wonderful in- 
strument, and a wonderful talent for playing on it, 
and that he wished to hear him. He intimated 
also to Jack that he must get up and go through 
liis hornpipe again. Jack, nothing loth, sprang 
to his feet, and, as he passed Mr. Yernon, he 
whispered — ‘‘How’s your time, sir, — look about 
you.” 

We and several of the spectators were now 
forthwith ushered into the presence of the great 
chief. We found him seated in the garden porch 
of his house, a number of lamps hanging from the 
trees around him. It was a picturesque and ro- 
mantic scene. Four or five persons — mostly grave 
old gentlemen with long white beards — sat on 
cushions on either side of him; while others, in 
rich dresses, which betokened some rank, stood 
behind him. He had, evidently, been having a 
dinner party, and now wanted an evening enter- 
tainment. Mr. Yernon salaamed before him, and 
asked what was the pleasure of “ so generous, mag- 
nificent, and grand a chief.” 

“ Why this : — Understanding your young slave 
can play in a wondrous manner, I wish to hear 
him,” said the Sheikh. “ But tell me, O mei- 

27 


ai4 


SALT WATER; OR. 


chant ! Iiow is it that lie can communicate with m} 
captive, as I am told he does. They must have 
been acquainted before.” 

This question at first puzzled the pretended 
Turk, but he promptly replied — “ Qh^ most wise 
and sagacious chief, worthy of being monarch of 
the faithful, know that these Nazarenes are, in 
their youth, instructed in many arts and sciences ; 
some play on instruments, some dance, others 
sing, or paint likenesses of men and beasts, strange 
abomination as that may appear. Kow, my slave 
is one who has learned to play on an instrument, 
and he who has the happiness to bo owned by your 
highness is one who has learned to dance.” 

see, — -I see,” exclaimed the chief: ‘‘ and it is 
a sin that two such accomplished slaves should 
lielong to dififerent masters ; therefore, merchant, 
what price do you fix on yours ; for, if he answers 
my expectations, I intend to become his purchaser.” 

This announcement puzzled Mr. Yernon some- 
what ; but, of course, he could not refuse at once. 

“ He is unworthy of being possessed by your 
highness,” he replied, “ for nature has not allowed 
him the power of speech. But, rather than speak 
of that matter, let him show you a specimen of his 
art.” 

He then made a sign to me, and I struck up 
■ J ack’s favourite hornpipe ; the Moors, old and 
jmung, black beards and gray, short and long, form 
mg a circle round him^ Up he jumped, and, with 
arms akimbo, commenced his dance. If he had 
before shuffled, and kicked, and capered, he now 
redoubled his efforts, snapping his fingers, clapping 
his hands, turning and twisting in every conceiv- 
able way. Scarcely ever before was such a horn- 
pipe danced. It drew forth rounds of applause 
from even the gravest of the spectatoi’s. The chief 


NEIL d’arCY’s life AT SEA. 


815 


Was delighted. Turning to one of his attendants, 
lie gave an order, which I did not then compre- 
hend. Mr. Yernon had kept outside the circle, to 
be ready for any emergency which, as Jack hinted, 
might occur. I, meantime, played a variety of 
other tunes, till Jack, jumping up from the spot 
where he had thrown himself, made a sign to me 
to begin another hornpipe. This time he even out- 
did either of his former attempts ; indeed, before, 
I believe, that he was only shamming being tired ; 
for my fingers and elbows began to ache before 
his legs or breath gave any signs of his wish to end 
the dance. 

“ Change the tune, Mr. D’Arcy. Wallop-ahoo- 
aboo ! m just give them an Irish jig to keep them 
staring.” 

A jig I played, and a jig he danced, with agility 
enough to win the heart of any iJTora Creina in old 
Ii’eland. Then I tried a Scotch reel, and he almost 
outdid the jig; nor did he cease till he saw Mr. 
Yernon rejoin the circle. 

iN’ow, if we haven’t bamboozled the old gentle- 
man famously, my name’s not Jack Stretcher!” 
he exclaimed, with a loud laugh, slapping his 
thigh; _an action which was naturally supposed, 
by his audience, to mark finale of his barbaric 
dances. 

Exclamations of wonder broke from the lips of 
all around ; and I, having played a few more airs, 
we were dismissed, graciously, to our dormitory. 

Mr. Yernon then told me, that, while Jack was 
dancing, he had managed to speak both to Major 
Korman and his daughter, the chief having sent 
for the inmates of his harem to witness the strange 
seaman’s dancing. 

It was arranged that we should, the following 
uight, try to communicate with the frigate’s boats j 


SALT Water; or, 


^16 


and, if they could manage to send a party on shore, 
that we should scale the walls of the h^rem, and 
carry off Miss I^orman, — they being ready to sup- 
port us. She, at all events, would b^e prepared for 
the emergency. 

Mr. Yernon told me that, from what he heard, 
there would be no use negotiating, as the old chief 
boasted that he never had given up a slave he had 
taken, and never would. He was also subject to 
fits of fury, so that no time was to be lost in carry- 
ing out our plans. The great difficulty was to 
communicate with the boats, but Jack undertook 
the task. While employed in the harbour he had 
observed where some small skiffs laj^, and he de- 
clared that he could easily steal oft with one of 
them, and should, without difficulty, fall in with 
the boats. The next day was to be spent in mark- 
ing out our line of retreat, and in settling the spot 
at which the boats were to land. 

In the afternoon, Mr. Y ernon was sent for to ex- 
hibit his jewels, and I went with him. The Sheikh 
laughed at the idea of he himself having any to 
sell, but he had no objection to buy some ; and, 
that the ladies of the harem might select for them- 
selves, we were ushered to the entrance of its sa- 
cred precincts. I kept my eyes very sharp about 
me, and I saw that, by scaling not a very high 
wall, we could easily get up to the very door of 
the harem, which was separated from the main 
building. I at once recognized Miss Herman, 
though she was veiled like the rest of the ladies. 
She came forward to examine the jewels, and look- 
ed at several which the Sheikh offered her. One 
after the other she put them back into the box, till, 
at last, Mr. Yernon contrived, unobserved, to slip 
a )er into her hand. 



I’s all right,” thought I. ‘‘ Miss Horman will 


NEIL d’aRCY'S life AT SEA. 


817 


now be prepared wlien we are ready to help hei 
to esca})e.” 

A few jewels were bought; but Mr. Yernon 
signifying that he would be liappy to return on the 
following day, should any of the ladies desire to 
change their mind, they unanimously declared 
that he must certainly come. 

Several times during the day Jack made excuses 
for coming up from the harbour, and each time 
brought his ample pockets full of rope. As soon 
as it was dark, he came cautiously into our cham- 
ber, where we all set to work, and, in a short time, 
had manufactured a rope ladder quite long enough 
to go over the garden wall. 

“Now,” said he, “I must be off, and try and 
fall in with tlie frigate’s boats. I have a skiff al- 
ready, but I may have some way to pull ; so, don’t, 
sir, make a start, till I come back and let you know 
all’s right.” 

Several very anxious hours passed away after 
Jack’s departure, and Mr. Yernon and I at last be- 
gan to fear that some accident had occurred to 
him, or that he had missed the boats, and that we 
should have to risk anotlier day within the old 
Sheikh’s power. Major Norman and his daughter 
must have been still more anxious, for they were 
separated from each other, and less able to account 
for the delay than we were. At length our anxious 
ears caught the sound of a light footstep, and Jack 
poked his head in at the door. 

“ All right,” he whispered. “ The boats are 
ready to pull in when I signalize them. While 
you, gentlemen, go and get Uie young lady. I’ll be 
off and call the Major.” 

Eagerly Mr. Y ernon and I hurried out, carrying 
the ladder between us. It was a w^onder some of 
the numerous dogs, found in every Moorish village, 
27^ . / j 


SALT water; or, 


dl8 

did not give tongue at us. We reached the pari 
of the wall nearest the harem. Mr. Yernon soon 
chambered up it, and, hoisting up the ladder se- 
cured one end on the garden side, by pegs in the 

f round, which we had before prepared, while 1 
eld down the outer side. I heard him give a low 
whistle, as he had arranged. While I was anxious- 
ly waiting his return, I felt a hand placed on my 
shoulder. I started with horror, and almost let go 
the ladder, for I thought it was a Moor come to 
capture me, and that our enterprise had failed ; 
but, looking up, I saw Jack’s honest face, and Ma- 
jor Norman behind him. 

“I think, sir,” said Jack, if you were to go over 
the wall, and help the lady up, it would make 
quicker work, and it won’t take you long to follow.” 

His advice seemed so good that I did as he re- 
commended. Fortunately I did so, for I do not 
think otherwise the ladder would have kept in its 
place. I found Mr. Y ernon waiting at the door of 
the harem, in despair almost at the non-appearance 
of Miss Norman. At length the bars within were 
gently removed, and, the door opening, she stepped 
forth into the garden. There was no time for 
greeting. Closing the door, Mr. Yernon took her 
hand, and hurried on to the ladder. Climbing up, 
he had lifted her over the wall, and placed her in 
safety in her father’s arms, and I was following, 
when a door in another part of the building flew 
open, and, a bright light streaming forth, I saw 
the old chief and a number of his attendants, with 
arms in their hands, rush ouf into the garden. I 
was over the wall in an instant, pulling the ladder 
after me, and not waiting to see which Way they 
came. 

“ Fly, sir, fly !” I exclaimed. “ The old tiger ia 
after us.” 


NEIL d’aRCY’S life AT SEA. 

No second warning was necessary, and Mr. 
V^ernun and her father, lifting Miss Norman be- 
tween them, hurried along the road towards the 
beach, Jack and I bringing up the rear, to keejj 
our pursuers at bay. Lights now appeared in dif- 
ferent parts of the village, and, just as we turned a 
corner, we saw the old Sheikh and his people in 
hot pursuit of us. 

“Eun, sir! r.un as fast as your legs can carry 
you, and bring up the people from the boats,” 
cried Jack, as he saw our enemies coming after us, 
and drawing a cutlass with which he had provided 
himself from the boats, and buckled to his side. — 
“ I’ll keep these chaps off from the young lady till 
help comes to us. I’ll warrant.” 

I darted forward as fast as my legs could carry 
me. I was afraid every instant of being stopped 
by some Moor who might dart out from his house ; 
but happily, at that time, the inhabitants of the 
village were fast asleep, and as yet there had been 
no noise to awaken them. Fortunately, the old 
Sheikh was too fat to move fast, and his slaves, 
probably, had no fancy to encounter the formida- 
ble Englishman, whose agility of heel had made 
them fancy him little short of a Gin, or evil spirit 
of some sort. At last I reached the little creek, 
where the boats were lying, the men resting on 
their oars, ready to shove off at a moment’s warning. 

“ Help ! help !” I exclaimed, panting for breath. 
“Help ! or Mr. Yernon will be retaken.” 

In a moment Adam Stallman, and a dozen men 
from the different boats were by my side. All had 
been arranged for the emergency which had oc- 
curred. On we ran, in close order, at a double 
quick step. Scarcely were we in time. The Moors 
were up to our friends, but Jack was laying about 
him in such gallant styl^^ that no one could manage 


320 


SALT WATER; OR, 


to Iky hold upon them. His sword flew round hia 
head like a flash of lightning, and though hia 
opponents cut and thrust at him from all sides, he 
remained unhurt, wJiile he had drawn blood from 
several of their sides. He shouted, and shrieked 
and leaped about, springing now on one side, now 
on the other, yet, back again on the middle of the 
road, if they attempted to press too much forward. 
Stallman, seeing at a glance how afiairs stood, 
divided his people, so that they could encircle Mr. 
Yernon and his friends ; and then, coming up tc 
Jack’s assistance, for a moment entirely drove 
back his assailants. By this time the whole vil- 
lage was aroused, and the Moors, collecting in 
numbers from the houses, attacked us furiously on 
all sides. Our brave fellows, however, kept tliem 
at bay, and retreated in good order towards the 
boats. We had no time to lose, in truth, for they 
were making for the boats themselves, and, if they 
got in our rear, might cut us ofl*, and overpower 
also the party left in the boats. It was with no 
small satisfaction that I heard the voice of Dicky 
Sharpe, shouting out to us to come on, and then a 
brisk fire from the men with him cleared the in- 
tervening space of Reefians, who had got ahead of 
us. The old chief and his slaves had hitherto not 
fired, either for fear of hurting Miss Horman, or 
because they had no powder or fire-arms. How, 
however, the blood of all parties was up, and 
pistols began to flash, and sabres to clash, and a hot 
light was going on, as w-e made a dash for the 
boats, and Miss Horman was lifted safely in. The 
Reefians now rushed furiously down on us. Adam 
Stallman and J ack Stretcher were the last men in, 
they keeping a whole host of Moors at bay, while 
the boats were being shoved ofif; then, by a 
desperate leap. Jack, by Stallman’s order, got into 


NEIL D’ARCY'S life AT SEA. |21 

one of the boats, while he himself sprang ^to 
another. Alas ! at that moment a volley came 
rattling down among us, and, before Stallman 
could take his seat, he fell into the bottom of the 
boat. It was the one I had reached. I stooped 
down. 

‘‘ "Where are y3u liurt, Stallman ? Oh ! tell me, 
tell me,” I exclaimed, taking his hand. 

‘‘ In my side ; lend me a handkerchief, pray,” he 
answered, faintly. “ But give way, my lads — ^give 
way ; never mind me.” 

The men had stopped in their exertions for a 
jiioinent, and were leaning forward to discover it 
he was much hurt. They needed not, however, a 
second order, for volley after volley came rattling 
over us ; while the foremost and most daring 
Reefians in their rage rushed into the water, in the 
l.»ope of seizing us. Some who grasped the gunnel 
had reason to repent their temerity ; for we dealt 
them such blows with our cutlasses that they were 
compelled to let go, every wound they received 
increasing their fury ; others waded after us up to 
their armpits, tiring their pistols and cutting at us 
with their scimetars, shouting fiercely at us all the 
time, and grinding their teeth with rage and dis- 
appointment. It was no child’s play ; for, had 
they caught us, they would have destroyed every 
one of the party. By dint of great exertion the 
boats were at length ^ot clear and into deep 
water. By the fiashes ot tlie fire-arms I could see 
the old Sheikh standing on the beach, and trying to 
urge his followers to pursue us still further. — 
When they found that all hope of preventing oui 
embarkation had gone, they hurried oft‘ to the 
harbour to launch their own boats for the pursuit. 
We had a long way to pull : seyeral of our people 
liurt. ana the boats were likewise full of men 
21 


622 


SALT water; or, 


BO tliat we felt we were far from certain of escap- 
ing after all. Mr. Yernon ordered the gun in the 
bow of his boat to be fired, to draw the attention 
of the frigate, should she not have heard the sound 
of the musketry ; and I followed his example. By 
this time we were a couple of miles or more away 
from the shore, but the frigate was still some five 
or six miles from us. Before long, by the light of 
the dawn just breaking, we could see the Beefiar 
boats stealing out from the land ; but we had now 
no great fear of being caught. Still, our enemies 
pulled very fast, and were animated with eveiy 
feeling of rage and revenge to excite them to 
exertion. Hitherto there had been a dead calm, 
which much facilitated our progress ; and as the 
gloom of night cleared away, we could see, in the 
grey of the morning, the frigate’s topsails hanging 
uselessly in the brails. I kept anxiously looking 
back at our pursuers. 

“ Do they gain on us ?” asked Stallman, who sat 
propped up in the stern sheets. 

“ I fear so,” I replied ; “ but the frigate is still 
not so very far ofi*.” 

“ If they overtake us, I will ask you, D’Arcy, to 
drop astern a little, and try and keep them at bay, 
60 as to afibrd the first gig a better chance of es- 
caping,” he said faintly. 

This was the boat Miss Horman was in-. 

“ Of course. Stallman,” I answered, “ every one 
here will do their best to defend the young lady — 
won’t you, my lads ?” 

“ Ay, ay, sir ; never fear,” replied the men, with 
one voice, at the same time giving a cheer. — 

Hurra ! hurra !” 

The enemy’s boats were now drawing uncom 
fortably near, and the headmost ones had begun 
to fire ; though their shot did not reach us. Still it 


KEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


323 


was toe evident that they would be up to us before 
the frigate could come to our assistance. There 
she still lay, like a log on the water. I did not 
much fear the enemy ; but I knew if they overtook 
us, even if we escaped, it would be the cause of 
much more bloodshed. Presently, as I was think- 
ing of this, I saw a light ripple curling over the 
smooth, shining surface of the leaden-coloured sea. 
Another and another cat’s.-paw followed ; the frig- 
ate let fall her topsails — they were sheeted home * 
sail after sail was set; and just then, as the sun 
rose in a blaze of glory, our ^gallant ship was seen 
standing towards us — a magnificent and welcome 
sight — under a press of canvas, lighted up by the 
bright rays of the warmth-giving luminary. A 
simultaneous cheer rose from the boats’ crews as 
they beheld the spectacle; and, with redoubled 
efiforts, they gave way to meet the ship. The 
Reefians saw that their prospect of catching us was 
gone ; and, giving us a parting, though, happily, 
harmless vofley, they pulled round, and made all 
haste to the shore, to avoid being themselves, in 
their turn, pursued and captured. We were, soon 
after this, on board, and heartily welcomed. The 
poor fellows — there were four or five of them who 
had been badly wounded — were carried to their 
liammocks, and tended carefully by the surgeon. 
Adam Stallman was conveyed to Mr. Yernon’s 
berth in the gunroom. He was evidently more 
hurt than anybody else. The doctor gave a very 
unfavourable report of his case to the captain from 
the first. Every one on board grieved much to 
hear of his danger, for he was much beloved ; but 
he seemed calm and contented. When I saw him, 
his looks were cheerful — a smile was on his lips. 
Few would have believed that lie was a person 
about shortly to die, and that he full well knew it 


B24 


SALT water; OB, 


It was not a stoical indifference to death; not the 
courage of a man endowed with physical hardi- 
hood ; but true Christian fortitude and resignation 
to the will of Grod, trust in his Maker’s promises, 
hope in the future, which supported him. We were 
now returning to Malta ; for Captain Poynder saw 
that there would be no use in attempting to punish 
the Tleefians for their late acts, and that we should 
certainly only be the chief sufferers if we attacked 
them. 

One day Adam Stallman sent for Dicky Sharpe 
and me. 

“My dear boys,” he said, “I have sometimes 
given you good advice, and I much regret that I 
have not given you more, as you always took it 
well. I may never have an opportunity of speak- 
ing to you again.” 

“ Oh ! domt say so. Stallman,” sobbed my young 
messmate. “ Don’t die ! You must recover, and 
stay with us.” 

“ Life and death are in God’s hands alone,” re- 
plied Adam Stallman. “ As you have a regard 
for me, promise me that you will try not to forget 
what I say to you. Remember always that you 
were sent into this world as a place of trial — that 
you have numberless bad propensities existing in 
yon, and many temptations constantly offered to 
you ; that your trial consists in the way you con- 
quer the one and resist the other ; but also recol- 
lect that you have no power whatever of yourselves 
to do this — that of yourselves you would not even 
know how to resist — you would not know that it 
was necessary to resist. But then you must know 
that God is just, merciful, and kind; that he has 
given mankind a guide, not only to tell them that 
they must resist, but to show them how to resist 
temptation — how to conquer evil propensities 


NEIL d’aRCY’S life AT SEA. 826 

that if they will pray to Him, he will give them 
knowledge, and grace, and strength sufficient for 
all their wants. In that guide — that Book of 
hooks — he tells them that he sent his only Son, that 
his sufferings and death might be accepted instead 
<'f their eternal suffering and death, to which their 
sins would most justly have consigned them. — 
Therefore, ray dear boys, I want you to study that 
book, day after day — never give it up. But, at 
the same time, do not fancy that you are doing a 
meritorious act by merely reading it. You must 
examine it, and treasure it, as you would a pre- 
cious gift. You should read it with thankfulness 
and j(^ that God has given you that precious 
gift. You are not doing him any service by read- 
ing it. The acts alone which result from reading 
it do him any service ; and, after all, those acts 
are only your bounden duty. Common grat- 
itude demands them from you. Hever forget. — 
You must pray daily — ^pray for grace, and faith, 
and strength, and knowledge, and be assured that 
God will give them to you at last. IS ever cease 
praying. What I have said may seem hard to 
you, ray dear boys j but it is the truth ; and I could 
not have died happy without saying it, as I felt 
that it was my duty to say it. Be religious, and 
never be ashamed of your religion. Hoist your 
colours in sight of the enemy, and fight bravely 
under them, wherever you go.” 

Much more our friend said, but the above was 
the pith of his discourse. I believe that neither 
iny young messmate nor I ever forgot what he said. 
By following his advice, we have found a comfort, 
a joy, a strength, which we should never otherwise 
have known. Our kind friend’s forebodings were 
speedily fulfilled j and before we reached Malta, he 


326 SALT WATER; OR, 

had, in perfect peace, yielded up his life to the God 
who gave it. 

“What! did the good Adam Stallman really 
die some of my young readers may ask. Yes ; 
good and bad, rich and poor, of all ranks and 
stations in society, are often summoned in their 
joyous youth, their flowering manhood, by a just 
God, to render up an account of their mode of 
life. Oh ! my young friends, remember that you, 
too, may be summoned away from this bright 
world, and all you hold dear, in an hour, a day, a 
year — at a moment you think not of ; and that 
you, too, must render up an account of how you 
liave lived on earth before the great, the just, the 
all-seeing J udge ; that every thought of your heart, 
every action you have performed, will then be laid 
bare ; and that, unless you can say, I did my duty 
to the best of my power and knowledge, and, I 
trusted to Christ to save me, it were better, far 
better, that you had never been born. I shall be 
glad to And that my adventures amuse you, but I 
should also deeply blame myself if I did not try 
and make you understand these things ; and I 
should feel that it were also far better that my book 
had not been written. 


327 


NEIL D’A.R0Y’S life AT SEA- 


CHAPTER XXL 

eiETTJKN TO ENGLAND — APPOINTED TO THE OPOSSUM — THE 

commander’s oath — now he kept it — the gale — ^LOSS 

OF MASTS — OLD POPPLES — DEATH OF COMMANDER — THU 

PIRATE — END OF MYERS. 

I FORGOT to say, in the last chapter, that before 
shaping oiir course for Malta, we ran a little way 
down the coast, and landed our young Reefian 
prisoner. It might have been better, had Captain 
roynder endeavoured, through his means, to treat 
with the old Sheikh for the libei’ation of his cap- 
tives ; but, probably, the means of such a plan was 
considered too doubtful to be attempted. What 
became of Mr. Yernon’s jewel-box I do not know ; 
I fancy the contents were of very little intrinsic 
value. We carried Major JSTorman and his daugh- 
ter to Gibraltar, whence they went to England. 
Mr. Yernon did not marry for upwards of a year 
after this. He and his wife are among niy most 
intimate friends. We met with no more adven- 
tures worth recording in the old Harold. At 
length we returned to Portsmouth, and being paid 
off, I was once more a gentleman at large. I did 
not long remain so, for my kind uncle took care to 
get me another ship as soon as possible. In the 
mean time, I accompanied Dicky Sharpe to the 
home of his father and mother. Sir John and Ladj 
Sharpe. They were excessively kind, and made a 
great deal of me ; and so did the Misses Sharpe, 
who, being a good deal older than Dicky, treated 
us somewhat like little children, petting and hu- 
mouring our fancies, which did not altogether 
please me. It made me much more inclined to 


328 


SALT water; OB, 


act like a child, and to join Dicky in any pranks 
he proposed. I was \^ery sorry, however, to have 
to go away. It was, at the same time, no little sat- 
isfaction to both of us, that we found ourselves 
appointed to the same ship — a fine sixteen-gun 
brig, just fitting out — the Opossum^ Captain Cran- 
ley. Dicky, however, got leave for two or three 
weeks, while I had to join at once. His friends 
got him the appointment because it was consider- 
ed better that he should see some service in a small 
craft, with a smart officer, which our Commander 
was said to be ; while I joined because I was not 
likely to get a better. I had gone to see Larry as 
soon as I reached England, and found him and his 
wife fiourishing. When I got back to Portsmouth, 
while the brig was fitting out, I paid him frequent 
visits, to the old man’s great delight ; and he used 
to tell everybody he met what a first-rate sailor I 
had become, winding up invariably, with a look 
of no little pride, Ay, sir, and ’twas I taught him 
— didn’t I, Master ISTeil 

I must not forget to mention my kind uncle and 
aunt, and Daisy Cottage, where I was always a 
welcome guest. He had paid the cutter off, but 
expected soon to obtain another appointment. Of 
the Marlows, I could only hear that they had gone 
abroad ; but, as Miss Alice had promised to write 
to my aunt as soon as they had settled, I was in 
hcpes of hearing about them. But I must get on 
with my story. The Opossum was at sea, running 
down Channel, with orders to wait at Falmouth 
for dispatches and mails for Halifax, Hova Scotia. 
With the exception of Dicky Sharpe, all my brother 
officers were strangers to me, and mostly to eacli 
other, so it took a little time before we became ac- 
quainted and shook into our places. Captain Cran- 
ley, I found, was somewhat of the old school— 


NEIL D’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


32P 


very kind-liearted and simple-minded, and not less 
strict towards himself than towards others — with 
a nice sense of honour, and very sensitive of re- 
Duke. I was very glad to find that my old friend, 
Jack Stretcher, had volunteered, with the hope of 
one day becoming a warrant-officer. I must also 
mention the boatswain, who, though an oldish man, 
had not long taken out his warrant. He was a 
prime seaman, witli nothing very remarkable in 
his appearance, except that he was tall and thin, 
and had a long bushy beard, now somewliat grizz- 
led. Tlie aforesaid individual, Mr. Popples, was 
neat and clean, and had really good manners; 
his great ambition being to rise in the world, 
though he had begun to ascend rather late in life. 
We youngsters had a great respect for him, not- 
withstanding some of his peculiarities, and should 
never have dreamed of playing him the tricks we 
did old Chissel and Trundle in the Harold. Two 
days after we left Falmouth, the wind, which had 
been from the eastward and moderate, chopped 
round to the westward and north-west, and began 
to blow very heavily. Our Commander, however, 
was not a man to be fri^' ' 



wind ; so we close-reefed 


on our course as near as we could. The gallant 
little brig headed the seas bravely, and gave us 
every reason to hope that we might weather out 
the gale without damage. Towards the evening 
of the third day, however, it came on to blow hard- 
er than ever; the clouds came gathering up in 
thick masses, as if hurried one on the other, with- 
out the means of escaping, and the sea rose higher 
and higher. Mr. Pullen, the master kept glancing 
to windward in a significant manner. 

“ What do you think of it, master asked Cap* 
tain Cranley. 


28 * 


B30 


, SALT water; or, 


“Wlij, sir, the sooner that we up helm, and 
run into j)ort, tlie better for the ship and ourselves,” 
replied Mr. Pullen. ‘‘ Tliere’s no use straining a 
vessel till every timber in her creaks and groans 
with pain — that’s my opinion.” 

‘‘A very just one, master, and Pll follow your 
advice,” said the Captain. “ All hands wear ship.” 

The delicate operation was successfully perform 
ed. The helm was j^ut up — the aftersails were 
brailed up and furled — more headsail was got on 
her. For an instant she rolled heavily in the 
trough of the sea ; then her headsail, feeling the 
full force of the wind, carried her head away from 
it, and, like a sea-bird released from imprisonment, 
off sh^ flew on rapid wings before it. A number 
of vessels, driven in by stress of weather, were 
collected in Falmouth Harbour as we entered. We 
ran by them, past the flag ship, for the purpose of 
bringing up, when we were hailed with — 

“ W hat I Captain Cranley, are you afraid of a 
capful of wind ? There’s nothing to hurt you now 
outside, so go to sea again without bringing up.” 

These words stung our old Captain to the quick. 

“It’s the flrst time James Oranley was ever 
taunted for being afraid of any thing, much less a 
gale of wind ; and it shall be the last time, too, 
whatever comes of it, so help me Heaven !” 

Fearfully did the old man keep his vow. Ac- 
cordingly, we forthwith stood out again to sea. — 
' When we were clear of the land, we found the 
gale compLjtely abated, and we had a very flne 
passage, till within about a hundred miles of our 
port, when it fell calm. Hever do I recollect a 
more perfect calm : the sea was like lead in colour, 
but as smooth as glass, though every now and then 
there came a long, slow, gently moving undulation, 
Its if there were some unseen power beneath the 


NEIL D’AKCY’s life AT SEA. 


331 


watei. There was something, I thought, very 
ominous in the whole appearance of the atmos- 
phere. The barometer, the seaman’s warning 
friend, began also to sink, and each hour the 
quicksilver got lower and lower. Thus passed two 
days, but not a breath of wind came. Captain 
Cranley paced the deck with uneasy steps. The 
master likewise looked far from satisfied, I thought, 
with the appearance of the weather, and kept 
continually glancing round the horizon, in search 
of the expected sign of a change. The sails hung 
idly down against the masts, every now and then 
dapping loudly, as the vessel rolled slowly in the 
swell. It would have been more seamanlike had 
they been furled ; but, to fell the truth, our Com- 
mander appeared seized with a fit of infatuation, 
which deprived him of his usual clear judgment on 
professional matters. He had not got over his late 
unjust reprimand. With a morbid feeling of 
injured honojir, he allowed it to rankle in his bosom. 
People are apt to have a foreboding of evil ; but on 
the present occasion there were ample reasons for 
dreading mischief. 

To my mind, if we should furl every stitch of 
canvas, and send down our topmasts, we should 
be acting like seamen,” said old Popples, as I was 
forward, attending to some duty. 

“Why do you say that?” I asked ; “the sea is 
like glass, and there’s no wind, nor chance of any, 
as far as I can judge.” 

“ Because I haven’t sailed round the world for 
the last forty years with my eyes shut, Mr. D’ Arcy,” 
he replied. “Be sure, when the weather’s like 
this, there’s no slight gale coming on ; but the 
Commander is a good seaman, and 1 suppose he’ll 
give the order soon.” 

The Commander, however, did not seem to aj)- 


832 


SALT water; or, 


prehend any immediate change of weather. Kot 
BO Mr. Pullen. Whenever he went into the cabin 
he found that the silver in the barometer had sunk 
lower than ever ; and each time he came on deck, 
looking more anxious than before. After some 
time spent in watching the sky to the northward, 
he walked up to the Commander. 

‘‘.Captain Cranley, sir,” said he, ‘jit’s my duh 
to tell you, that, in my opinion, this weather won’t 
last many hours longer — not to say minutes, per- 
haps ; and if the s(juall I look for catches us with 
all this canvas set, it will carry the masts over the 
side to a certainty.” 

“ It’s the custom in the service generally for 
officers to wait till their opinion is asked,” replied 
the Commander, turning on his heel, and taking a 
few more turns on the quarter-deck. At last he 
stopped, and looked out towards the northward 
and westward, where a thick mass of clouds was 
banking up, each instant rising higher and higher. 

“Ml’. Fairman,” he said, to the first lieutenant, 
“ call all hands to shorten sail : put the brig under 
double-reefed topsails. Whichever way the squall 
comes, we mustn’t be frightened at it this time, eh 

The command was quickly obeyed, but the air 
remained as stagnant as ever. Still, old Popples 
was not satisfied. 

“We are better so than we were before. I’ll 
allow,” he remarked ; “ but the gale, when it does 
begin to blow, will, to my mind be a regular hur- 
ricane, and we shall be glad to run before it under 
bare poles. Mark my words, Mr. D’Arcy !” 

Boatswains do not always deliver their opinion 
thus freely about their Captain ; but old Popples 
was privileged, at all events with us midshipmen. 
Mr. Pullen shrugged his shoulders and said nothing, 
though he evidently held the same opinion as the 


NEIL D'AECY'S life AT SEA. 383 

Doatswain. The Commander had just retired to his 
eahiii, while the master continued his walk, turning 
his eye every now and then towards the quartet 
whence he expected the wind to come. Suddenly 
he stopped. 

“ Here it is !” he exclaimed. “ Up with the 
helm — square away the afteryards.’’ 

Scarcely had he spoken, when a terrific roar was 
heard, and down came the gale upon us with un- 
bridled fury, driving before it vast masses of 
spoondrift, and tearing up the water into huge 
waves, which every instant rose higher and higher. 
Off fiew the brig’s head, hovrever, before it, and it 
seemed like a race between her and the dense 
sheets of sjpray which careered over the seas, and 
the clouds of scud which chased each other across 
the sky. Her course, however, was to be suddenly 
arrested. The Commander made his appearance 
hurriedly on deck. 

‘‘ What means this ?” he exclaimed. There’s 
our port, sirs,” pointing to the north-west. “ Bring 
the ship on a wind, — down with the helm, — brace 
up the yards !” 

The officers stood agiiast, but the order was not 
to be disputed. 

Ho sooner did the brig feel the full force of the 
wind, than she heeled over, till her lee guns were 
buried in the waves, and the spray came flying 
over us, fore and aft. Still we looked up to it; 
and, had the wind not increased, we might have 
weathered it very well ; but it was evident that 
the gale had not yet come to its height. Magnifi- 
cently the brave little brig dashed through it ; but 
it was fearful work ; the timbers groaned, and the 
masts bent, every instant threatening to go by the 
board. Once more Mr. Pullen urged the Comman 
der to bear up. 


i 

834 


SAI.T water; or, 


. no, master,” lie answered, shaking his 

head ; “ IVe sworn tliat no power shall ever again 
turn me away from the port to which I am bound, 
and James Cranley is not a man you would ask to 
break his oath, I hope.” 

'•Well, sir, but the brig will hold her own bet- 
ter under closer canvas, you’ll allow,” urged the 
master. 

After some time, the Commander permitted the 
topsails to be close reefed, but not another stitch 
would he take off her. Still, the brig had too much 
sail set; and wearily and heavily she laboured 
tlirough the yet fast-rising seas. 

I had been on deck for some hours, and, drench- 
ed to the skin, was shivering with cold, when Mr. 
Pullen, with whom I was a favourite, told me to 
go and lie down in his berth, our own not being 
tenable, from the water which the straining of the 
ship allowed to run into it. All the officers and 
the watch were on deck. In spite of the heavy 
pitching of the ship I soon fell asleep. How long 
1 remained so I know not, when a terrific noise 
awoke me. I felt the suffocation of drowning, and 
for a moment saw the water in dark green masses 
rushing into the cabin. In another instant it was 
all dark. I uttered a prayer for mercy, for I felt 
that the brig was on her siae and sinking. Still, the 
love of life did not desert me. Through the dark 
ness I discerned one bright spot overhead. I made 
for it, and as I found my hands grasping the com- 
bings of the gun-room sky-light, the brig, with a 
sudden jerk, righted again. I thought it was only 
-preparatory to going down. Still I held on. The 
water rolled away, and disappeared from above 
and beneath me, and I was able to obtain a clear 
view along the deck. What a scene of destruction 
and horror met my view ! Of all those living men 


NEIL d’AEOY’S life AT SEA. 885 

who lately peopled her deck, not a soul was there, 
— ^not a mast was standing — not a boat remained, 
— as if the destroying sword of the archangel had 
swept over them. The decks were swept clear of 
every thing ; while the green foam-topped seas, in 
mountain masses, rose above them, threatening 
every instant to overwhelm my hapless vessel. A 
glance showed me all this. Looking forward, 1 
saw another head rising from the fore hatchway ; 
it was that of old Popples, the boatswain. 

“ What ! are they all gone ?” he shouted ; ‘‘ then 
Ihn captain. Lend a hand, Mr. D’Arcy, and we’ll 
try and get the ship before the wind.” 

“ Captain of a sinking ship yon may be, Mr. 
Popples,” I answered, amused, even in that mo- 
ment of horror, at the old man’s extraordinary 
ambition. 

But there was no time for talking. I sprang on 
deck, as he had done, and, at the same instant, a 
cry reached our ears, and looking to leeward, we 
saw the faces of several of our shipmates, clinging 
to the spars and rigging, which still hung on to 
the ship. 

At first, surrounded as they were with the seeth- 
ing foam, their countenances convulsed with terror 
or agony, as they clung with their death-grasp to 
the rigging, it was difficult to recognize thein, 
while, one by one, they were torn from their un- 
certain hold, and borne far away to leeward. Still, 
Bome clung on. I trusted my friend Dicky Sharpe 
might be of the number; for even then, strange as 
it may seem, I pictured to myself the grief and 
misery his loss would cause at that home where I 
had lately seen him the hope and joy of a loving 
mother and affectionate sisters. These thoughts oc- 
cupied scarcely a second. In a few moments I re- 
covered from the sensation of almost overwhelm- 


836 


SALT water; or, 


ing lioiTor wliicli the scene bad caused ; and, as I 
gazed more attentively, I recognized Dicky him- 
self, Avith Captain Cranley, and the master, yet 
clinging to the rigging. 

The watch below, Avhom the boatswain had sum- 
moned, joined us without delay ; and I must do 
him the justice to say, that no one could more 
nobly have exerted himself than he did in trying 
to save those Avho wmuld speedily deprive him of 
his new-fledged honours. The foremast and its 
rigging, in falling, had torn away the chainplates 
and every thing which secured it forward; and 
the whole tangled mass of spars and ropes now 
hung on by the after-shrouds, and had both served 
to put the brig before the wind, by holding back 
her stern, while it allowed her head to pay off, 
and acted also as a sort of breakwater, Avhich saved 
us from being pooped. The poor fellows in the 
water Avere crying loudly for help as they caught 
sight of us on deck. One of the nearest was Dicky 
Sharpe. Calling Jack Stretcher to my aid, I got 
him to heave a rope with a bight at the end which 
I had made. It fell close to Dicky’s head. He 
grasped it with one hand, and slipped it over his 
shoulders. .We hauled on till we got him near the 
side. Just then the foreyard came surging up, and 
I thought Avould strike him.' 

“ Give me your hand,” I shrieked out. 

I caught it barely in time. Stretcher leaned 
through a port, and we got Dicky in at the moment 
tot'i;the yard came thundering against the side, 
Ali-^St’ grazing h-fs C(j()tioAlHhis Aj^^as but the Avork 
of^^a ‘ Second.’ - Fppples-’h^ in ^^tlve tnekn! tirne^ by 

get^ thO' on 
betiMu ^and his ■ hexk attempt ivas^th^ saive- Captain 
iHe, • Was-^ much fnrtlreb iosUt; 

hanging oil ’ ttr < nnifi 6lf ’ the tnptnasisl > ; 'K>oh4> ‘of ^ the 


NEIL d’aRCY’s life AT SEA. 


337 


I opes near him which we could reach would come 
home. There appeared to be no means of saving 
him. Two other men were, however, got in. 

^‘Oonie; I can’t bear to see our old skipper 
washed away before our eyes. What will his wife 
and children do?” exclaimed Jack Stretcher. “ I’ve 
uo one at home to care for me; so some on you 
claj) on here, while I just make a fly out, and see 
if I can’t get hold of him.” 

Tile gallant fellow had made a rope fast to his 
waist, and was on the point of making his perilous 
attempt by springing into the raging sea, when a 
terriflc wave came rolling up astern. Its curling 
crest lifted high the spar to which the Commander 
clung. I fancied that I could see his starting eyes 
take one last earnest glance at the ship, and his 
lips moved as if imploring us to save him ; then 
down came the wave ; and as the ship was hurried 
on before it, its broken waters tore away his al- 
ready failing grasp, and in a moment he was bur- 
ied from our sight. We had no time to mourn for 
him then. Mr. Pullen instantly took command, 
and Popples was fain to act as his flrst lieutenant ; 
while . Sharpe and I did our utmost to make our- 
selves useful. 

The wreck of the masts, as I have said, kept the 
brig before the wind. While some hands set to 
work to rig the pumps, others got up a bit of a 
I ury mast, secured to the stump of the foremast. On 
this we managed to spread a topgallant -sail, which 
helped her along famously. All hands who could 
possibly be spared were required to work the 
pum|)s, spell and spell ; and the wonder was, when 
we found the immense quantity of water she had 
taken on board, that she had not gone down. As 
it was, her deck and upper works leaked in every 
direction; and we aU felt that such, even now, 


388 


SALT water; ORj 


might be our fate. I shall never forget the 
anxiety of that first night, as, amid the raging seas, 
with the gale howling round us, ova- noar-sinking 
ship, battered and dismasted, ran through the 
darkness, every sea, as,, foam-crested, it came I'clb 
ing up astern, threatening to overwhelm us. Who 
but fools would not, on such occasions, feel the 
utter helplessness of their own arm to help them, 
or would fail to put their trust alone in Him who 
is all-powerful to save. Yes ; it is amid the raging 
storm and on the battered wi-eck that the seaman, 
if his mind be but directed aright, gains a practi- 
cal knowledge of the value of religion. But alas ! 
how few — how very few — are taught religious 
truths ; and the very men who wander round the 
globe, and might act as important pioneers of civi- 
lization and Christianity among the heathen, are 
allowed, for the most part, to remain ignorant and 
profane — a disgrace, instead of an honour, to the 
Christian nation to which they belong. Such a 
state of things ought not to exist ; and I ask you, 
my young friends, to aid in conveying the bless- 
ings of the Gospel to our gallant seamen, and, 
through their means, to the far distant nations of 
the eartln — ^But to return to the brig. For two 
days we ran to the southward, without any change 
in the weather. At length it began to moderate, 
and in three days more we had run into compara- 
lively a smooth sea. 

No one would willingly have blamed our late 
unfortunate commander ; but we .all felt that, had 
he bore up in time, as a seaman should have done, 
instead of obstinately persisting in holding his 
ground, he would have saved his own and many 
valuable lives, and the brig would have escai>e*d 
the disaster she had suffered. 

Mr. Pullen had shaped a course for the Berinii 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


839 


das ; but, low as they are, it was necessary to keep 
a very sharp look-out, to prevent running past 
them, or on to the coral reefs by which they are 
surrounded. Our landfall, however, was better 
than we expected ; and one of the fine pilot boats 
— for which the islands are so deservedly noted — 
coming off to us, we were safelv towed into har- 
bour. The brig was some months in the hands of 
the dockyard people before we were ready for 
sea, our dispatches, after some weeks’ detention, 
being sent on to their destination. 

During the period of our stay, the merchants, as 
)fficers, were very kind to 



Bermudas are also called 


Somers’ Islands, because Sir George Somers was 
cast away on them in 1609, since when they have 
been inhabited by English settlers. Their pro- 
ductions are very similar to those of the West 
Indies. There are a number of blacks on them, 
who, at the time I speak of, were slaves, but are 
now, of course, free. They consist of four princi- 
pal islands, the chief of which is called St. George, 
and other smaller ones. They take their name 
from Juan Bermudez, who discovered them in 
1522. I have no time to say more about the place. 

Before we were ready for sea, a new commander 
was sent out from England — Captain Idle. His 
name was very far from appropriate to his charac- 
ter, He brought us the pleasing information that 
we were destined for the coast of Africa, where 
some fast cruisers were much wanted to put down 
the Slave Ti-ade. 

Captain Idle had seen some service. He had 
been thirty years at sea, out of which time he had 
not probamy spent two on shore. He had been in 
the Horth Seas and West Indies; in the Antartic 
Ocean, and on the coast of Africa ; in the Indian 


340 


SALT WATER; OR, 


Beas, and in every part of the Pacific. There was 
not an unhealthy station in which he had not 
served. He had served for ten years as a first- 
lieutenant : he had been three times wounded, and 
had obtained his rank, both as lieutenant and com- 
maRder, for two remarkable deeds of gallantry ; 
and now, as a special reward for his services, I 
suppose, he was sent out to the coast of Africa. 

A first-lieutenant also joined us — Eeuben Spry 
by name — and two mates, the senior of whom did 
duty as second-lieutenant, Holland and Waller. — 
The very day we were ready for sea we went out 
of harbour, and made the best of our way towards 
the, coast of Africa. A succession of easterly 
winds had kept the Ojpossum more to the west 
than she would otherwise have been. We were 
abo^t the latitude of Barbadoes, when, having run 
on during most of the night with a fair breeze, 
towards morning it dropped altogether, and we 
found ourselves rx^lling away in a tropical calm. — 
As we were already in the seas wjiere slavers are 
to found, a bright look-out was kept, in the 
hopes of our falling in with a prize, though as yet 
not a. sail had been seen to which it was thought 
worthwhile giving chase. As morning broke, of 
a day shall not easily forget, there appeared to 
the southward, not four miles from us, two vessels 
becalmed like ourselves. One, a large barque, 
somewhat the nearest to us, was clearly an English 
merchantman; the other, a low black schooner, 
had the wicked, rakish appearance of a Spanish 
slaver. The look-out from the foretopmast-head 
gave notice at the same time that he could see two 
boats pulling from one vessel to the other. The 
captain and all the oflicers were speedily on deck. 

‘‘There’s some mischief going on there,” ex- 
claimed Captain Idle, after a look at the vessels 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 341 

‘‘ Mr. Spry, call the boats away ; we must send and 
overhaul those fellows.” 

Three boats, under the command of the first- 
lieutenant, were speedily in the water, and manned, 
all hands being well armed. Waller had charge 
of one boat, I of the third, — and not a little proud 
did I feel of the honour. A cup of cocoa and some 
biscuit being first served out to each of us, to give 
us strength for the work to be accomplished, away 
we pulled towards the barque. It was hot enough 
when we started, but as the sun rose higher it 
grew hotter still, and the glare on the smooth 
water became so bright as almost to blind us ; but 
nothing relaxed our exertions, all hands feeling 
that there was some work before us. The other 
boats had reached the barque when we were yet 
three miles ofif, and very probably had not observed 
us, although the people from the rigging of the 
merchantman must have done so. The report of 
fire-arms was now heard, and this made us re- 
double our eflforts to get up. 

Tlie merchantman is attacked by pirates ; there 
is not a doubt of it,” shouted Mr. Spry. Fire 
ofif j^our muskets, my lads ; it will give both parties 
notice that we are coming to put a stop to their 
fun.” 

Those not pulling blazed away right merrily for 
a few minutes, and then watched for the result. — 
It seemed to have encouraged one party and to 
have disheartened the other, for the boats we had 
before seen were observed pulling back to the 
schooner. 

‘‘Follow me, Waller. After the boats, my 
lads !” shouted Mr. Spry. “ D’Arcy, do you board 
the barque. See any assistance is required, and 
if not, pull for the schooner.” 

It took me but a short time to find myi'o. f along- 

29 * 


342 


SALT water; or, 


Bide tlie barque, while the rest of our party were 
in chase of the strange boats. So eagerly were 
those on board looking out at the chase, that they 
did not observe me step on board. Alas ! the ap- 
pearance of the deck showed too plainly that 
mischief had already been done. One man lay 
dead, and two more sat on the deck, supported by 
their shipmates. But there were two persons in a 

f roup standing aft, whom I thought I recognized. 

looked again. I was sure I could not be mis- 
taken, and, running up to them, I found my sell 
shaking hands most warmly with Mr. Marlow and 
his daughter. lie did not recognize me ; but she 
did in a moment, and told him who I was. 

‘‘ Again you have helped to save our lives, Mr, 
D’Arcy,” he exclaimed ; ‘‘ for, thanks to our brave 
captain here, we were able to resist a band of vil- 
lainous pirates who attacked us, till your appear- 
ance frightened ‘them off.” 

I, of course, told them how happy I was to be 
of service, and then, finding that my presence on 
board the barque was not required, I tumbled into 
my boat, and gave way after my shipmates. The 
pirates’ boats had gained the schooner about ten 
minutes before they had. I was not long behind 
them, and the aid of my boat’s crew was very 
welcome. The deck of the schooner was crowded 
with men, who were making a desperate resistance. 
The most prominent of them fought more like a 
demon than a human creature. With desperate 
energy he wielded a huge cutlass, with wliich he 
kept the deck clear around him. His men, how- 
ever, a mixture of Spanish, Portuguese, blacks, 
and a few English or Americans, were falling 
thick on either side, and several had actually been 
driven overboard. My gallant fellows gave' a loud 
shout as we scrambled on deck, and, led by Jack 


NEIL d’AHOY’S life AT SEA. 343 

Stretcher, they cleared every thing before them. — 
Some of the j)ii’ates were forced down the hold, 
others overboard, and several sunk on the deck to 
rise no more. Still the captain stood at hay. I 
now had a better opportunity of observing him, 
and I at once recognized my old enemy, the villain 
Myers. 

“Your time is come at last. Bill Myers,” I 
Bhouted. 

The words seemed to have a paralyzing effect. . 
What thoughts they called up, I know not. Per- 
haps he had not for long been knowm by that 
name. He made a few steps backward, and then, 
with one bound, cleared the side of the vessel and 
leaped overboard. There was no land to swim to 
—no boat to pick him up — ^but ravenous sharks 
surrounded the scene of strife, already collected 
by the taste of blood. In another instant, the 
long-sought-for smuggler, murderer, and pirate 
was their prey. The remainder of the pirates 
yielded without another blow. We found that 
they had shipped for a slave voyage only ; but had 
been induced by Myers, who had lately got com- 
mand, to commence a course of piracy, which, by 
our appearance, had happily been cut short. — 
After some hours, a breeze springing up, we 
brought the vessels together. Waller and I were 
ordered to take the prize into Barbadoes, where 
the barque was also bound; while the Opossum 
cruised outside, to look out for slavers. 

Mr. Marlow^ was going to spend some time at 
Bridgetown, where he had a house of business. — 
He received Waller and me most kindly, and 
nothing could exceed the hospitality of the inhabi- 
tants generally when they heard of our exploit. 
Captain Curtis, also, the master of the barque, got 
great credit for the way he had defended his vessel 


344 


SALT water; or, 


till we came to his assistance. Miss All je Marlow 
had grown somewhat, but still she was very little 
for her age. She was, however, as kind as ever, 
and I, for one, was very sorry when the Ojpossum 
came in with another prize. The survivors of the 
men who had boarded the barque were hung, and 
the schooner herself was condemned. This busi- 
ness being accomplished, the Ojpossum once more 
made sail for the coast of Africa. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

LOOK OUT FOR SLAVERS IN A BOAT — WEARY OF WAITING A 

SAIL IN SIGHT — CAPTURE HER — ATTACKED BY A LARGE 

SLAVER — DESPERATE FIGHT — BEAT HER OFF. 

We had been some weeks on the coast without 
having taken a prize, although we had chased sev- 
eral suspicious-looking craft, which' had contrived 
to get away from us. At Sierra Leone, we had 
shipped a dozen Kroomen, to get wood and water 
for the ship, a work which Europeans in that cli- 
mate are unable to perform without great risk. 
At length Captain Idle began to grow impatient. 
()ne day he sent for Waller, who had been on the 
coast before with him, and was a very clever, ac- 
tive fellow. 

‘‘ W aller,” said he, “ I want you to go away in 
the pinnace, and while some of these slaving gentle- 
men are running away from us, perhaps you may 
be able to render a good account of them. You 
will require a companion. Will you like to take 
D’ Arcy with you 

W aller expressed his readiness to go, and to have 
my society; and so it was settled Among his 


l^EIL d’aRCY’s life SEA. i?45 

other accomplishments, he was a first-rate shot 
with a rifie, and it was reported, when he was be 
fore on the coast, that he used to pick olf the mon 
at the helm, and any of the crew who went aloft 
or appeared above the bulwarks, and had thus 
caused the capture of several slavers. I was to see 
this .talent exerted. Jack Stretcher, who was a 
capital companion, went with us as coxswain. Wt 
were all dressed in thick flannel shirts, and hac 
blankets in which to wrap ourselves at night. We 
had water and provisions for ten days, and a sniaL 
stove, with which to warm up our cocoa and tea, 
and to make a stew or a broil on occasion. I do 
not remember that we had any other luxuries. To- 
wards the end of the afternoon watch, we shoved 
off from the brig’s side, having wished our ship- 
mates “ Good-bye !” with a sort of feeling that we 
might not ‘meet again. While the Opossum stood 
away on a bowline to the northward, we shaped a 
course for the moutli,, of the Gaboon river. We 
arrived at our cj’uising ground before daybreak. 
Waller then ordering the men to lay in their oars, 
which had hitherto been kept going, and lowering 
the sail, told them to wrap themselves in their blan- 
kets, and to lie down under the thwarts. I kept 
watch while he also slept. The night was bright 
and beautiful, and the sea, smooth as a mirror, re- 
flected the glittering stars which shone forth from 
the dark blup heavens, while our boat lay floating 
idly on its slumbering bosom. So deep was the 
silence which reigned around, that the breathing 
of the sleepers sounded strangely loud, and I fan- 
cied that I could hear vessels, even though out of 
sight, passing by, or fish rising to the surface to 
breathe, or deaving. the water with their fins. At 
other times, my imagination made me fancy that 
I could hear beings of another world calling to each 


846 


SALT WATER, OR, 


other as they flew through the air or floated on the 
ocean ; and I almost expected to see their shadowy 
forms glide by me. About an hour before dawm, 
Waller got up and told me to take some rest. 1 
was not sorry to lie down, albeit my rest was 
far from refreshing. I soon began to dream, and 
dreamed that I was a phimpudding, and that Betty, 
the cook at Daisy Cottage, had fastened me up in 
a flannel pudding-bag, and put me into a pot to 
boil. The water soon began to simmer, and I to 
swell and swell away, till the string got tighter 
round my throat, while a thick black smoke arose 
from some coals which she had just put on. I was 
looking out of the pot, and meditating on the pro- 
verb, “ Out of the frying-pan into the fire,” when, 
being unable to stand it any longer, I jumped out 
of the pudding-bag, and found myself rolling at 
the bottom of the boat. 

‘‘Why, D’Arcy, I thought. you were going to 
spring overboard,” said Waller. When I told him 
my dream, he laughed heartily, and agreed there 
was ample cause for it. 

Our blankets were wet through and through ; 
and a dense black fog hung over us, through which 
it was impossible to discover the position of the 
sun, which had some time been up, or of an}^ object 
ten fathoms off; while the sea was as smooth as. a 
sheet of glass, and as dull-coloured as lead. As I 
awoke I found my throat sore from the unwhole- 
some moisture I had inhaled. We had nothing, 
therefore, to do but cook and eat our breakfast, 
and practise patience. There was little use exhaust- 
ing the men’s strength by pulling, as we vwere as 
likely to pull from, as towards, a vessel. Hour 
after hour thus passed away, till at length the sun 
conquered the mist, and gradually drew it off from 
the lace of the deep, discovering a wide expanse 


NEIL d’ARCY’S life AT SEA. 


347 


of sliiiiing water, unbroken by a single dot or speck 
which was likely to prove a sail ; while to the east- 
ward arose a long dark line of mangrove-trees, at 
the mouth of the Gaboon River. The land-breeze 
came off to us, smelling of the hot parched earth ; 
and we turned our eyes anxiously whence it blew, 
in the hope of seeing some white sail dancing be- 
fore it over the bar of the river, but w^e were doom- 
ed to disappointment. The hot sun struck down 
on our heads, and tanned and scorched our cheeks, 
and the upper works of the boat cracked with the 
heat, till a beefsteak might have been broiled on 
the gunwale. At last the land-wind died away *, 
there was again a dead calm, in which we roasted 
still faster, till the sea-breeze set in and somewhat 
cooled our parched tongues. Now we looked out 
seaward, in the hopes of iinding some slaver, unsus- 
pectingly standing in, either to ship the whole oi 
the portion of a cargo, having already, perhaps, 
taken some on board at another part of the coast. 
Nothing is more trying to the temper than to have 
to sit quiet and do nothing ; yet such was our fate 
from day to day, as we lay like a snake ready to 
spring on its prey. The sun rose, and roasted us, 
and set, leaving us to be parboiled, and rose again, 
without a sail appearing. We ate our breakfasts, 
and dinners, and suppers, and smoked our pipes, 
and sat up, and went to sleep again, in the same 
regular manner for several successive days. 

At length, one morning, a h^it breeze sprang 
up ; and, as the fog was blown off in dense wreaths, 
the topsails of a schooner were seen rising above 
them. 

“ Out oars, my men, and give way with a will !” 
exclaimed Waller, in an animated voice. “We 
are not yet seen, and may get alongside before they 
find us oit. 


348 


SALT WATER; OR, 


The men, in their delight at the prospect of liav 
ing something to do, would liave cheered, but he 
silenced them. We hoped that she was a slaver; 
but she might after all, be only an honest Liver- 
pool trader. When .first seen, she was little more 
tlian a mile oft’, to the south-west of us, running in 
'rfor the land with the wind, which was from the 
northward abeam, 

“ What do you think of her. Jack?” asked Waller, 
fter Stretcher had been eyeing her narrowly. 

“ Why, sir, to my mind, those topsails have only 
been cut by Spanish fingers ; so I make pretty 
sure she’s nothing else than a nigger passage- 
vessel.” 

ThisSimioun cement made the men give way still 
more heafttfly, for, though the wind was fair, we 
did not make sail, as we should thereby have been 
more quickly seen. Away we pulled, the water 
bubbling and hissing under our bows as we cut 
through it. AVhen we got within a quarter of a 
mile of the chase, she saw us, we judged, by hear- 
ing a musket fired and seeing a bullet strike the 
water near us. 

“ Tliat proves he has got no guns on board. Give 
way, my lads!” shouted Waller. 

The men cheered, and bent to their oars with 
greater vigour. W e then hoisted the British ensign, 
and fired a musket to make the fellow heave-to ; 
but, taking no notice of the signal, he held on his 
course. The wind continued so light, however, 
that we were overhauling him fast ; but there were 
signs, both on the sky and water, that it might 
again get up, and afford him a better chance of 
escaping. At all events, he was evidently not in- 
clined to give in. 

“ I must teach the fellow that the British flag is 
not to be trifled with,” said Waller, taking up Ida 


NEIL D’AECY’S life AT SEA. 849 

rifle. ‘‘ I have no compassion on these slaving 
villains.” 

Scarcely had he spoken, when a man, whom we 
both took to be the captain, jumped into the net- 
ting abaft the main rigging, and made some very 
significant gestures to us to be off ; and directly 
afterwards, seeing that we continued our course/-^ 
several of his crew let fly their muskets at us. ^ 

“ You’ve brought it on your own head,” exclaim- 
ed Waller, loading his rifle. He fired. The next 
moment we saw the man fall back upon his deck. 
There was then a great deal of shouting on board 
the schooner ; her helm was put up, and, the breeze 
freshening, she began to pay off before the vdnd. 
She had not got round, though, befor^ we were 
under her quarter. . 

“ Hook on to her main-chains, my lad — hook on 
fast?” cried Waller. 

Unfortunately, the bowman missed his aim ; and 
the schooner, falling oft", brought the stern of our 
boat in contact with her counter. Without a 
moment’s thought. Waller had spnmg over her low 
buhvarks, followed by Stretcher and me. In an 
instant we were attacked by the whole of the sla- 
ver’s crew, who, with loud shouts and ferocious 
gestures, rushed aft, fully hoping, as they saw that 
the pinnace had dropped astern, to make us an easy 
prey. 

The mainsheet of the schooner had been eased 
Dff, the foreyards had been squared, and, with the 
now strengthening breeze, the schooner was run- 
ning fast through the water. Waller took one 
glance over his shoulder, and that showed him that 
there was scarcely a chance of the boat overtaking 
us.' Our fate was sealed : no mercy could we ex- 
-ped:’Tl*- )ni'4he'slavjer’s crew. One hope only re- 
*maitted -^WaIleT had- tfeoifight it. 

?o 


860 


SALT watee; oe. 


‘‘Knock down tlie man at the lielm, and jam 
the tiller down hard !” he sung out to Stretcher ; 
“we will keep the other fellows at bay in the 
mean time.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, as coolly as if he 
had been merely ordered to give a pull at the 
main-brace. 

There was a ciy, and the next moment the body 
of the helmsman dropped on the deck. Jack had 
literally cut his head off with a sweep of his cut- 
lass. The sight had the effect of making the Span- 
iards hang back for a moment, when Jack, putting 
the helm liard down, made the sails all shiver, and 
finally got her fore-topsail aback. Seeing what 
had occurred, the crew of the pinnace cheered, 
and, giving way, were soon clambering over the 
Counter, wile we made a dash at the Spaniards, 
few of whom attempted to oppose us even for a 
moment; most of them, indeed, throwing away 
their arms, made their escape to the forecastle. — 
The rest followed their example; and in two 
minutes the schocfner Zerlina^ with a hundred and 
fifty slaves on board, was ours. Besides the cap- 
tain, and the other man who was killed, there 
were twenty stout fellows, two or three only being 
out of fighting order with, their wounds. We 
had difiiculty enough to keep the rest quiet. — 
They were, in truth, very sulky, and inclined to 
revolt, when they had recovered from their fright, 
and saw to how few they had succumbed. Curses, 
loud and many, escaped their lips, and showed that 
if they had an opportunity, they would murder 
as, and retake their vessel, without scruple. We 
therefore kept four of our men as a watch over 
them, with loaded muskets, with orders to shoot 
the first who showed signs of proving mutinous. — 
Having made these arrangements, we turned ouJ 


JNEIL D’aKCY’s life AT SEA. 851 

attention to the living cargo crowded between her 
decks. It was a sickening sight, as we got the 
hatches off and looked down upon the mass of 
black faces which, with their white eyeballs rolling 
and- months agape, gazed up at ns, wondering 
what was next to happen. There sat a hundred 
and fifty human beings chained down to iron bars 
running across the deck — men and women of all 
ages, their chins resting on their knees, without 
space to stretch out their limbs, or to alter their 
position in any way, a rag round then* loins 
being their only covering. They were* in good 
health, not having been out many days ; and there . 
;tvas a good supply of water and farina pn board. 

We did oin* best to make them understand that we 
were friends, and would see them on shore again,, 
and make them tree, as soon as we could. 

During our examination of the schooner, we had 
discovered a number of spare handcuffs. Jack 
Stretcher brought them from below, and threw 
them on the deck, with a significant look at the 
Spaniards, who, in defiance of orders, had made* . 
several attempts to come out on deck. ^ 

‘‘I think, if we was to clap ’em on to them 
Spanish lubbers, it wouldn’t be amiss, sir,” said he 
tb me, holding up a pair before me. ‘ .-i* 

I mentioned the suggestion to Waller, who at 
length agreed that it would be safe to follow it, • 
taking one-half at a time, while the rest remained 
in their berth under the forecastle. Jack received 
the necessary orders. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” he answered. ‘‘ Sennor Dons, 
understando, move forwardo instanto, or I’ll drive 
the pointo of my cutlaslio into vostros sternosos.” 

The prisoners understood his actions mere than 
his w^ords, for he fully suited the one to the other, 
and they showed no inclination to dispute them, 


S52 


SALT water; or, 


Le liavilig evidently made them respect him, from 
his strength, and the daring he had displayed on 
hoarding. Some we confined forward — some in 
the after-cabin ; and most fortunate it was that we 
did so. 

It was some time before all our arrangements 
were made. About an hour before dark we tacked, 
to stand in shore again, Waller intending, should 
we not fall in with the brig, to shape a course for 
Sierra Leone. We tacked again about midnight ; 
but when daylight came, not a sign was tliere 
of the Oposmm ! and, accordingly, towards the 
above-mentioned place we steered. We had the 
pinnace in tow ; but we had taken the gun out ot 
her, and placed it amidships on the deck of the 
schooner. Overcome with fatigue. Waller had 
throAvn himself down aft, wrapped up in his blank- 
et, while I stood near him, with my eyes winking, 
and trying in vain to be wide awake, when I was 
startled by the cry of — “ A sail on the weather- 
how !” 

“ Which way is she standing?” asked Waller, 
springing to his feet. 

“ Eight down for us,” answered Jack, who had 
gone aloft. “ I was hoping she might be the brig, 
at first ; but she’s a large square-topsail schooner ; ' 
an I, by the cut of her canvas, she looks like a 
Spanish or a Portuguese slaver.” 

As the stranger drew near, no doubt as to what 
she was remained on our minds. Waller took his 
measures accordingly, with perfect coolness. See- 
ing that the prisoners were thoroughly secured, wo 
got ready all our arms, and supplied ourselves 
with ammunition. The gun amidships was also 
loaded to the muzzle, and covered with a tarpaulin. 
With the calm courage which British seam’en on 
all occasions display, our men waited the approach 


NEIL D^AROY’S life "at SEA. 853 

of the stranger. As she drew near, we made out 
that she had three guns on each side, and that her 
decks were crowded with men. ^Notwithstanding 
this overpowering disparity of force, our meii 
looked at her no way daunted ; and I felt sure 
that what men could do they would for our defence. 
Waller, however, judged that it would be as well 
to animate their courage with a few words. 

“INow, my men,” said he ; “we are but ten of 
us on board this craft ; but we are true and honest ; 
and though there are probably fifty or sixty Span- 
iards in yonder schooner, they are a set of slaving 
scoundrels, who cannot stand up a moment before 
British seamen. They will not attempt to hull us 
with their shot, because they will wish to get back 
the schooner uninjured ; so they will try to take us 
by boarding. I hope they may, that we may show 
them that they have caught a Tartar. All we 
have to do is to blaze away with our muskets till 
we can give them a taste of our cutlasses. Our big 
gun wefil keep for a last dose ; so now, my boys, 
trust in a righteous cause, and huzza for old Eng- 
land and victory.” 

Our men cheered long and lustily, and the 
sound must have reached the ears of the Spaniards, 
and at once showed them, had they before doubted 
it, that the schooner was a prize to a British cruiser. 
They forthwith began to blaze away with their 
guns ; but, as we had expected, they tired high, in 
the hope of cutting away some of our rigging that 
they might the more easily lay ^us aboard. We 
replied with our musketry as soon as they got 
within range, and Waller picked off ^several of 
their people with his rifle, so that they probably 
fancied we had got some ^od marksmen concealed 
under our liulwarks. When they drew nearer, 
however, they could not have failed to discover 


854 


SALT water; or, 

tlie smallness of our niwnbers. As they sailed 
faster than we did, all we could do to prevent 
their raking us, which more than once they at- 
tempted to do, was to keep away when they en- 
deavoured to cross our bows, and to luff up again 
when they threatened to pass under our stern. — 
Seeing, therefore, that the quickest way of decid- 
ing the engagement was to run us on board, they 
bore right down upon us : and, unable to avoid 
them, the fluke of our anchor became hooked on 
to theii forerigging. At the same instant, full 
thirty swarthy figures were seen crowding into the 
Spaniard’s riggings and nettings, brandishing their 
swords, with iierce cries of vengeance, thinking to 
terrify us into surrendering. 

“ ]N ow, my lads ! give them the dose I spoke of,” 
shouted Waller. 

The enemy leaped down on our deck, and were 
already in possession of the forecastle. The tar- 
paulin was cast off from the gun, and the muzzle, 
loaded as it was with missiles of all sorts, was turned 
towards them, and fired right in among them where 
they mustered the thickest. Scarcely a man es- 
caped being hit ; five were killed outright ; and so 
astonished were the rest, that, thinking probably 
that the vessel herself was blowing up, they tum- 
bled, scrambled, and, clambered back into their 
own schooner in the greatest confusion. 

. “ On ! my boys, on !” shouted Waller ; and, 
making a dash at the fellows, we much expedited 
their movements. In an instant, not an enemy was 
left alive on our decks. 

“ Up with the helm !” sung out Waller ; and at 
the same time. Jack and another man cutting away 
at the forerigging of the enemy, ’we sheered clear 
of him ; while he, backing his foretopsail, dropped 
under our ^stm’n without firing a shot. We there- 


NEIL D'ARCY'S life AT SEA. 856 

fore liaiilcd our wind, and kept on our course, and 
soon afterwards he filled his sails, and stood away 
to the southward. lie had enjoyed a sufficient 
taste of our quality. Not one of us was hurt, 
vvd'iile a quarter of his people must have been killed 
or wounded. 

Our men gave a loud huzza as they found them- 
selves free. To me it seemed like a wild dream. 
A few minutes before we were engaged in a des 
perate struggle for life; now, uninjured, we were 
sailing gaily over the calm water, victors in the 
strife. Had it not been for the dead bodies of our 
foes remaining on the deck, we could scarcely have 
believed our senses. This action is considered one 
of the most gallant that has occurred on the coast. 

The next day, to our great satisfaction, the 0])08- 
suin hove in sight. Captain Idle, having taken our 
prisoners out of us, ordered us to proceed forth- 
with with the negroes to Sierra Leone for adjudi- 
cation. 




OHAPTER XXIII. 

BLOWN OFF THE COAST — WALLEJi’s KINDNESS TO THE NEGROES 
— RUN SHORT OF PROVISIONS AND WATER — VESSEL LEAKING 
— A.\1P:PJCAN HARD-HEARTEDNESS — waller’s noble RESOLVE 
— REACH BAHIA — AUDACIOUS TRICK OF BRAZILIAN ““LAVE- 
DEALER8. 

We had parted from the Opossum about a couple 
of days, when w6 observed signs of one of those 
terrific easterly gales which sometimes blow off the 
coast of Africa. Waller, from his previous experi- 
ence, knew them, and remarked them in time, so 
that we were able to get all snug to meet the wind 
when it came. On a sudden, the hitherto calm' 
eaden water was covered with a foam drift, like 


856 


SALT water; OB, 


the line sand swept across tlie stony desert. The 
only sail we had set was a close-reefed topsail and 
storm-jib ; the helm was put up, and away she flew 
before the gale, swift as the albatros on its snowy 
wing. Away, away we sped, and soon, leaving 
the African coast far astern, were ploughing the 
water of the South Atlantic. The Zerlina^ though 
a beautiful model, as are most of her class, was 
flimsily built, and far from a good sea-boat, speed 
only having been cared for in her construction. 
As we got away from the land, we met a good deal 
of sea, in which she laboured much; and Ned 
Awlhole, one of the carpenter’s mates, who was 
acting carpenter, came one afternoon with a very 
long face into the cabin, where Waller and I were 
sitting at dinner, to inform us that she was making 
far more water than was satisfactory. 

Get the pumps rigged, then, and we must try 
and keep her clear till we can manage to beat 
back to Sierra Leone,” said Waller, as coolly as if 
it were a matter of slight importance. 

“ It is rather a serious thing this, is it not ?” I 
observed ; “ I wonder you make so light of it.” 

‘Wery serious; and on that account it behoves 
us, as ofiicers, to keep up our own spirits, and to 
cheer up the men,” he replied. ‘‘ I am sorry to say 
also, that I very much fear we shall fall short of 
water before we get into port, if this wind contin- 
ues ; ^nd with all these poor blacks on board, that 
will indeed be a very serious thing. Good sea- 
manship may enable us to keep the Slip afloat, but 
Grod only can provide us with water.” 

“ What must we do, then ?” I asked. 

We must place all hands on short allowance, 
and we may fall in with some vessel which may 
supply us ; or showers may come, and we may 
oiled enough for our more pressing wants,” he 


NEIL d’akCY’S life AT SEA* 


357 


replied ; “ we must keep the poor negroes on deck 
as much as possible — with fresh air they may exist 
with less water.” 

"Waller had speedily w^on the confidence and af- 
fections of the negroes, by his kindness and consid- 
erate conduct. At first, when we had taken posses- 
sion of the vessel, they looked upon us as enemies, 
for the Spaniards had told them that we should 
cook and eat them; but Waller, who could speak 
a few words of their language, soon tranquillized 
their fears on that account. He then got upon 
deck the sick, and those wliose limbs were chafed 
or bruised, and gave them medicines, and dressed 
their wounds with his own hands. He told them 
that they should be set free to go where tliey 
wished, and should, if possible, be enabled to re- 
turn to their own country. Few, however, had 
any hope of being enabled to do the latter, for they 
had mostly all been taken in war, or kidnapped 
from districts away from the coast, the wars being 
undertaken by the chiefs nearer the sea for the 
express purpose of making prisoners to sell into 
slavery. Two or three of those who had been kid- 
napped had already been at Sierra Leone or other 
British settlements, and as they understood a good 
deal of English, we were able to communicate pret' 
ty freely with them. We found them, poor chil- 
dren of Ham, very intelligent fellows, and as cap- 
able of receiving instruction as the people of any 
other race I have ever met. Waller’s good ex- 
ample was followed by the crew, and at last each 
man vied in showing kindness to the poor wretches, 
so that they learned to look on us truly as their 
friends and protectors. We did but our duty. They 
were our fellow-creatures, and we were soon to be 
fellows in suffering. At first I own it was very 
trying, and more tl>^n once, as I was di-essing theii 


358 


SALT WATER; OR. 


wounds, I turned sick ; but I recollected that thej 
were fellow-beings, with human feelings, and souh 
to be saved, like ours, and I returned to my dutj 
with renewed strength to perform it. At length 
we found that we could, with perfect safety, allow 
al] the blacks to come on deck as they liked. 
Whenever Waller appeared, they shouted after 
him— “How do, Masser Waller? Bless him, Mas- 
ser Waller?” And some would come and kneel 
down, and put his hand on their heads, with a look 
of affection ^vhich was unmistakeable. 

“ I believe, sir, it’s all very right with these poor 
fellows, and there’s no harm in them,” said Jack 
Stretcher to me one day. “ But, to my mind, it 
doesn’t do to trust these strange niggers too much. 
They sometimes, I’ve heard, rises and cuts the 
throats of their friends.” 

I agreed with Jack that it was necessary, in most 
cases, to be cautious ; but in the present instance 
it was evident, as things turned out, that it was 
owing to Waller’s judicious treatment of the ne- 
groes that all our lives were preserved. 

All this time the wind was blowing so strongly 
from the eastward, that we found it impossible to 
beat up against it, so we had nothing else to do 
but to continue running before it. Every day mat- 
ters were getting more and more serious^; our own 
provisions were growing shorter — of any thing like 
luxuries we had none — salt beef and pork, hard bis 
cuit and rice, and a little tea and sugar, with a 
cask of rum ; none of the best either, by-the-bye. 
Waller called me into the cabin for a consultation. 

“ To get back to the coast is now impossible,” 
he remarked. “ If this wind holds, and we can 
keep the craft affoat, our best chance is to try and 
make the coast of Brazil. The port of Bahia is the 
nearest, and I propose steering for that place.” 


NEIL d’aKOY’s life AT SEA. 


359 


I agreed with him ; but we neither of us haa any 
s^eiy strong hopes of being really able to make it 
in time to save our own lives and those of the ne- 
groes. On carefully examining our stock of pro- 
visions, we found that only by the most economical 
expenditure of them, and with the most favourable 
weather, should we be able to reach our destina- 
tion in time. A foul wind, or a day or two of calm, 
would ruin us ; and a gale would, in all probabil- 
ity, send us to the bottom. The blacks, of their 
own accord, took their spell at the pumps, and 
finally relieved our men entirely of the labour. 
Had they been compelled to continue pumping, it 
would, I am certain, have worn them out. We 
most dreaded a want of water. Hot a cloud ap- 
peared from which we might draw it forth, and 
scarcely could we expect a shower. Though con- 
stantly on the look-out, not a vessel could we see, 
from whence we might get provisions. At length, 
one morning, as Jack Stretcher had gone aloft, 

“ A sail on the weather-bow !” he sung out, in a 
cheery tone, which gave hope to all our hearts. 

She’s standing across our course, so we can speak 
her without altering* it.” 

In about two hours we were up to her. She was 
a good-sized brig, and the ensign, with tliQ stars 
and stripes, which hew out at her peak, showed 
that she sailed from the United States. We had a 
signal of distress hying, in addition to the British 
ensign. 

“ITillo! what are you?” sung out a man in her 
main rigging. 

A prize to his Britannic Majesty’s brig of war, 
O^osHum^'’ answered Waller. ‘‘What are you?” 

“ The Go-orloiig^ from Baltimore, bound for Rio,” 
answered a person on board the brig, through a 
speakiiig-tj’umpet. 


360 


SALT water; or, 


“ Heave-to, if you please, sir, and I will pay you 
a visit — we are in great distress,” said Waller. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” was the reply from the brig, as 
she was speedily brought up on a wind and hove- 
to. 


So soon as we could get a boat in the water, 
leaving Jack in charge. Waller and I went on 
board the brig. The master, a tall, thin, sallow 
man, with a pointed beard, no whiskers, and a 
hooked nose, with a huge cigar in his mouth, a 
straw hat on his head, loose nankeen trousers, and 
a gingham swallow-tailed coat, received us at the 
gangway. 

“Walk into the cabin, gentlemen, and let’s liq- 
uor a bit,” said he, as we stepped on board, show- 
ing us the way before we had time to reply. 

The cabin, to our eyes, looked luxuriously fur- 
nished, and not unwelcome w^as the repast of cold 
beef and ham and fine biscuits which the steward 
placed speedily before us, not forgetting a spirit- 
stand with four tall bottles. We did ample justice 
to the good things placed before us. 

“ And now, what’s your pleasure, Mr. Lieuten- 
ant,” said the master of the bifig. 

Waller explained exactly what had occurred. 
“ And now,” he continued, “ we are in a sinking 
state ; we have neither provisions nor water to last 
us till we can reach a port ; and the destruction 
of all these poor people is sealed if you do not 
help us.” 

“ What ! take all them dirty niggers aboard my 
craft ?” exclaimed the skipper, with a look of inef- 
fable disgust. “ You Britishers have rum notions, 
I calculate.” 

“JSTo, pardon me,” said Waller; “I only ask 
you to preserve from almost certain destruction a 
number of our fellow-creatures ; and any remuuer 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


361 


ation which you may require will certainly bo 
paid you.” 

“ What ! do you call them black niggers fellow- 
creatures, master? That’s a rum joke, I gness,” 
exclaimed the skipper. “ I should be happy to be 
of service to yon, but you are so unreasonable, — 
that you are.” 

“Scarcely unreasonable, sir,” urged Waller, 
mildly. “Can you not name a sum for which 
you could land all the people I have on board at 
Bahia, or the nearest port we can make.” 

“ISTo, sir ; I guess no sum would pay me to de- 
file my vessel in the way you propose,” said the 
Yankee. “I’ll take you and your own crew wdth 
pleasure ; but the niggers are out of the question.” 

“ What ! would you leave the poor wretches to 
perish in the most horrible way, with thirst and 
starvation?” exclaimed Waller, shuddering at the 
thought. 

“ They are niggere,” said the Yankee, coolly pufi:- 
ing forth a cloud of smoke, and leaning back in his 
chair with a self-satisfied look. 

“Hear me, sir!” exclaimed Waller, rising, a 
fiush mantling on his brow. “ I have six thousand 
pounds of my own in this world. That sum I will 
make over to you, by every legal means you can 
devise, if you will take these poor people on board 
your brig, and land them in a place of safety. This 
shall be over and above what my Government may 
award you. I entreat you, as you hope for mercy 
here and hereafter, to do as I ask.” 

“ Hot if you were to go down on your knees and 
pray till to-morrow morning,” replied the Yankee, 
slowly. “ Higgers are niggers, and they can’t be 
otherwise. If you and your people like to come 
aboard, you are welcome. You’ve got my answer, 


r>f)2 SALT wat^ik; or, 

“ Then, sir,” exclaimed "Waller, rising from his 
seat, “I’ll trust to the negroes’ God, to mine, and 
to yours, for that help which you deny them. May 
you never he in the same strait and seek in vain 
for help. Good day, sir.” 

The Yankee looked at us with an expression more 
of surprise than anger as we left the brig’s deck. 

“ Stay ! you are not a bad cliap, I guess. Here, 
just take these things, — you are welcome to them.” 

Saying this, he ordered a cask of w^ater, some 
beef and biscuits, and a few little luxuries, to be 
])ut into the boat. We were not in a position to de- 
cline the gift ; and, to do the Yankee full justice, he 
would receive no remuneration. We thanked him 
sincerely ; and assured him that we regretted deeply 
our opinions on the nature of negroes did not coin* 
cide ; at which he shrugged his shoulders, and we 
pulled back to the schooner. 

We again made sail for the westward. 

When I told Jack Stretcher what had occurred, 
he slapped his hand on his thigh, and exclaimed, — 

“Mr. Waller was right, sir, that he was, not to 
think c ' 
a man 
last.” 

I told Waller what Jack had said, and he replied 
that he was sure all our people would have refused 
to have deserted the poor blacks, even if he had 
proposed so cruel a proceeding to them. We 
husbanded to the utmost the provisions’ we had 
brought from the brig ; though, divided among all 
the people, there was scarcely more than enough 
to sustain life for a day. Still, not a seaman grum- 
bled. Far from so doing, he willingly shared his 
own scanty allowance with any negro who appear- 
ed more particularly to require sustenance. It ^vas 
amusing to see the weather-beaten, thick-bearde(i 


I deserting the poor niggers ; and there isn t 
of us but would gladly stick by him to the 


NEIL d’aRCY’S life AT SEA. 363 

men carrjing about tlie little black cliildren, whose 
mothers were too weak to bring them on deck. 

Though tliese Africans had hitherto been taught, 
with good reason, to look upon white men as in- 
carnations of devils, they began to consider our 
gallant fellows as something approaching to angels ; 
and, like savages in general, always in extremes, 
they were ready now to worship us. Providentially, 
the easterly wind continued, and the sea remained 
calm, so that we made very good way, and were 
able to keep the leak under. It was with a sense 
of deep gratitude that we at length made the land, 
when we had not a drop of water remaining, and 
with scai-cely food enough to sustain life for another 
day. We fondly believed that all our ti-oublea 
were over. The negroes shouted, and clapped 
their hands, and laughed with joy ; some of tliem ^ 
fancied, I believe, tliat they had got back to 
Africa. The next morning we dropped our anchor 
in the harbour of Bahia. Waller proposed to get 
the schooner repaired, to take in a supply of pro- 
visions, and to return to Sierra Leone, intending, 
if necessary, to bear all the expenses himself. Now 
I am going to relate a circumstance whicli may 
seem very strange, but is, nevertheless, perfectly 
true. As soon as we brought up, Waller went on 
shore, intending to report all that had occurred to 
the British Consul, and to get his assistance in 
carrying out liis intentions. I was in the mean 
time left in charge on board. Waller had been 
gone about a couple of hours, and I was looking 
anxiously for his return, hoping that he would 
bring some provisions and water, when, as I was 
walking the deck, I observed three boats pulling 
off towards us. As they came near, I saw that 
one of them contained several men in uniform. — 
They stepj^ed on board wuthout ceremony; and 


864 


SALT WATER; CR, 


one of them presented a paper, in Portuguese, 
which looked nke an official document, though, of 
course, I could not make it out. I shook my head 
to signify this, when he commenced explaining in 
broken English that he and his party were sent by 
the Governor to convey the negroes on shore, that 
die vessel might be the more speedily hove down 
to be repaired. I was somewhat sui-prised that 
Waller had not first returned ; but it never oc 
curred to me to suspect a fraud in the matter. 

While the Portuguese were speaking, three 
more boats came alongside, and in a very few 
minutes all the blacks were transferred from the 
schooner into them. Without an instant’s delay, 
the boats left the schooner’s sides ; but instead of 
making towards the town, they pulled away to a 
spot some distance from it, where the negroes were 
landed, and I lost sight of them. About an hour 
after this. Waller returned. 

I have settled with the Consul, who will have 
a large store, where our poor blackies can be 
housed comfortably while the schooner is repaired ; 
but he says we must keep a strict watch over 
them, for the people here are such determined 
slave-dealers, that they will kidnap them before our 
eyes.” 

My heart sunk as I heard these words, and I 
felt like a culprit. 

“Why,” I exclaimed, “the Governor has sent 
and had them all conveyed on shore.” 

W aller could scarcely believe his senses when he 
found all the negroes gone. He hurried back to 
the Consul, who went with him to the Governor. 
The Governor knew nothing whatever of the mat- 
ter, nor did any of the officials of the town. The 
Consul and some of the British in the place made 
every inquiry in their power, but no information 


NEIL D’aRCY S life AT SEA. 3U> 

whatever could they obtain. There could, how- 
ever, be no doubt that some slave-dealers had car- 
ried out the nefarious plot, while, by the employ- 
ment of bribes, they easily contrived to escape 
detection. Waller felt the matter very severely. — 
To have the poor negroes, in whom he took so 
great an interest, carried' into slavery, after all the 
toil and danger he had gone through, was almost 
heart-breaking. For long afterwards he could 
scarcely bear to speak on the subject. 

It was not without difficulty that we got the 
schooner repaired ; but at last she w^as ready for 
sea, and, without further delay, we made sail for 
Sierra Leone. We had a very fine run across. — 
Within a day’s sail of the coast, we fell in with a 
slaver, which, supposing us to be of the same kid- 
ney as herself, allowed us to run alongside, so that, 
without the slightest opposition, we took possession 
of her. Although she had no slaves on board, she 
■was in every respect fitted to carry them. She had 
but a small crew, it being evidently intended to 
take more men on board when the slaves were 
shipped. Waller thought it best to remove them 
into the Zerlina^ while he sent me and three 
hands, with Jack Stretcher as my first lieutenant, 
to navigate the prize into port. As may be sup- 
posed, 1 felt very proud of my new command, and 
pictured to myself the satisfaction I should have in 
t eporting my arrival at Sierra Leone. 

31 * 


366 


SALT water; or, 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

MY NEW COMMAND — A HEAVY SQUALL AND CAPSIZE — SAVED 
ON THE BOTTOM OF THE SCHOONER — TAKEN OFF BY A 
SLAVER — CHASED BY THE OPOSSUM — THE SPANIARD’S THREA'f 
— A HURRICANE — SHIPWRECK — MY FRIENDS THE MARLOWS— 
CONCLUSION. 

There is a common saying, that There’s many 
a slip between the cup and the lip.” I experienced 
tlie truth of it on the present occasion. Scarcely 
had I got on board my new command, when one 
of the thick fogs I have before described came on . 
The Zerlina was leading, and, being by far the 
faster vessel of the two, was already a mile ahead 
of us. However, I was pressing on all sail to keep 
up with her, while Waller shortened sail to enable 
me to effect this object. The fog grew thicker and 
thicker, and at last night came on, and we lost 
sio’ht of our consort. The fog lasted two days. — 
when, at length, it partially cleared, we saw a 
sail hull down to the southward ; but not another 
speck was visible in the whole circle of the horizon. 

‘‘We must pack on her, and try and overtake 
Mr. Waller,” said I to Jack Stretcher; “he will 
lieave-to for us, probably, when he ffnds we are so 
far astern.” 

Pack on her we did, in truth. It* Jack had a 
fault as a seaman, it was a too great fondness for 
carrying on to the last. We neither of us took 
warning from our misfortune in the Opossum . — 
The faster the little schooner ran tlu’ough the 
water, the greater was our satisfaction. 

“ If we continue to make as good way as we do 


NEIL d’AROY’s life AT SEA. 867 

at present, we shall soon overtake the Zerlina^' 
said I to Jack. 

“ She’s got a clean pair of heels of her own, I’ll 
allow ; but we have taught our little craft to go 
along, too,” he answered, looking up with no small 
amount of pride at our well-set canvas. 

A true sailor has a pride in the good behaviour 
of any craft he happens to be on board. Thus a 
couple of hours passed, and we certainly were gain- 
ing on our consort. I own that I had not been 
keeping that look-out to mark any change in the 
weather which I ought to have done. In a tropic- 
al climate, especially, a seaman cannot be too care- 
ful — the changes are so very sudden. I had gone 
below to dinner, that meal consisting of some cold 
salt beef and hard biscuit, washed down with rurn- 
and-water drunk out of a tin cup. I had been off 
the deck rather more than half an hour, and was 
just putting my head up the companion-hatch, 
when I heard Jack Stretcher sing out, “Let go 
the fore-sheet ! — down with the helm ! — down with 
the — ” 

Before he could finish the sentence, there came 
the rushing sound of a heavy squall. Down bent 
' the schooner to its fury — over, over she went. To 
spring on deck and to clamber up to the weather- 
bulwarks was the work of a moment. Still the 
vessel rose not : the helm had lost its power ; the 
sheets remained fast ; her sails reached the water. 

“ She’s gone ! — she’s gone !”*shouted my crew. 

I still had a faint hope she might right herself 
again ; but when she made the attempt, the furious 
wind beat her back, the sea washed over her sails, 
and in an other moment she turned completely 
over. I can scarcely describe my 'sensations. 1 
had no time, I fancy, to experience any ; at all 
©vents, I do not remember what they were. I 


SALT water; or, 


never lost hope ; for, bad as things were, I did not 
expect to be drowned. In the mean time, I had 
clambered to the outside of the bulwarks. 

“ Give me your hand here, sir !” I heard 
J ack Stretcher sing out ; and, looking up, I saw 
that he was hanging on to the main-chains. With 
his assistance, as the vessel weut over, I managed 
to climb upon her keel, and there we together sat 
for the moment in comparative security. Like a 
true sailor, he had caught hold of a rope, and 
brought the end up with him. Our first thought 
was to look out for our shipmates. One had, un- 
happily, been below ; the other two had been wash- 
ed ofi‘ the deck. They were, however, supporting 
themselves in the water, at no great distance from 
the vessel. When they saw us, they shouted to us 
to help them, for neither of them were good swim- 
mers. 

“Keep up, my lads!” cried Jack, in return. 
“ Get a little nearer, and I’ll lend you a hand.” 

Meantime, he -was hauling in on the rope, and 
coiling it up ready to heave to them. 

Just then I saw something dark moving under 
the water close astern of the vessel. Jack saw it 
also, as I guessed by the glance of his eye. 

“Whars that?” I asked, a thrilling sensation 
of horror creeping over me, for I knew too well. 

“ One of those sea-devils — a shark, sir,” he an 
swered, in a low tone.». Then he shouted out, “Strike 
away, my lads! — strike away ! you’ll soon be with- 
in reach. Never say die ! Strike away! Hurra!” 

Inspirited by these words of encouragement, one 
of the men at length got within reach of the rope. 
Jack hove it to him, — he made a spring and grasp- 
ed the end, and without difiiculty we hauled him 
up, he little suspecting the terrific danger he had 
for the present escaped. The strength of the other 


NEIL d’ARCY'S life AT SEA. 36^ 

poor tellow was evidently fast failing. The dread- 
ed monster ot the deep was not tar from him. 
Still, happily, he did not know of its presence, and 
the exertions he made kept it at a distance. 

I’m alraid poor Sandy will never reach as, sir,” 
said Jack, looking at him compassionately. “Just 
do you, sir, and Jim Dore, lay hold of the end of 
the rope, and I’ll try and carry it out to him 
There isn’t much fear of Jack Shark as long as on« 
keeps moving ; and I see a bit of a stick down there, 
which I’ll catch hold of, and give him such a rap 
on the nose if he attempt to meddle with me, tli< 
he’ll remember it for many a day to come.” 

He said this as he was coiling up the rope agair 
I could not dissuade him from his gallant resolve 
and yet so dreadful seemed the risk of his being 
destroyed by the shark, that I almost wished he 
had not thought of it. 

Jim and I caught hold of the other end of the 
rope, and seizing it without another word, he 
plunged into the sea, encouraging Sandy to perse- 
verance with his loud shouts. He first grasped the 
piece of wood lie had seen, and with it in his hand 
he swam towards Sandy, every now and then stop- 
ping to strike the water vehemently with it. Al- 
though the foam was flying over the tops of the 
waves all the time, and the sea was washing up the 
sides and almost sweeping us off from where we 
sat, under ihe lee of the vessel it was compara- 
tively calm. Anxiously, indeed, did I watch ^my 
brave shipmate’s proceeding. Every moment J 
exj^ected to see the shark make a dash at him, but 
his splashings and kickings kept the nionster at bay. 
He was almost up to poor MHavish, when the 
latter threw up his arms and disappeared from our 
sight. Jack was after him, though ; and, diving 
down, in another instant appeared, holding him by 
24 


B70 


vSALT watek; or, 


the luiir. Throwing the bight of the rope under 
liis arms, he sung out to us to haul away on it. We 
did so, while he supported the man with one hand, 
and kept slashing the water with the stick which 
he held in the other. 

Meantime I saw the fin of the shark as the mon- 
ster kept swiinming about in his neighbourhood, 
eager evidently to make a dash at him, yet afraid 
of approaching. At length we got tlie almost 
drowned man up the side of the vessel, and were 
hauling him up, Jack still being in the water, when 
feeling, I scarcely know what, prompted me to look 
in the direction where I had just before seen the 
shark. QJie monster was no longer there. I instant- 
ly cried out to Jack. The words were scarcely 
out of my mouth, when he made a spring and 
scrambled, out of the water by the main chain- 
plates. Then, turning round, he dealt a tremendous 
blow at the tail of the shar^, which had closely fol- 
lowed him. 

“ I’ll teach you to play such a sneaking trick as 
that, my boy !’ he shouted, as the greedy fish swam 
off, discomfited. 

1 breathed more freely when brave Jack was 
once more seated alongside of me on the keel of 
the vessel. Sandy M^Tavish, whose life he had 
thps so gallantly preserved, now came to his senses, 
and in a short time was sufficiently recovered 
to take care of himself. Our position, however, 
was far from enviable. Here were we, four human 
beings, seated on the keel of a vessel which might 
any moment go down, with neither land nor a sail 
in sight. For some time, after all our exertions, 
we sat silent, collecting our thoughts. 

“ Well, Jack,” said I, what are we to do ?” 

“ Wait patiently, till God sends us help, sir,” he 
repliei]. “We can’t help ourselves. It’s fortunate 


NEIL D’ARCY'S life AT SEA. 371 

we've just had our dinners. We shall hold out 
the longer.” 

We scarcely exchanged another word for some 
hours, but kept mstfully glancing our eyes round 
the horizon, in the hopes of a sail appearing. Short- 
ly before darkness came on, and tlie hour of ten 
passed by, I began to feel rather hungry. At the 
same time, I happened to put my hand into my 
pocket, and there I found the greater part of a 
ship’s biscuit, wdiich, as I was quitting the cabin, 
I had mechanically thrust into it. I almost shouted 
for joy as I found the prize — though it was not 
much to be divided among four men. The dis- 
covery made the rest fumble in their pockets. 
M^Tavish had a tobacco-box, which he had only 
just filled, and Jack found a huge lump of grease, 
which, though not very savoury, was not to be 
despised. How it had come there he could not re- 
collect. These treasures, however, we determined 
not to begin to consume till the following morning, 
for that night we had no liopes of being taken on 
the wreck. The squall had rapidly passed ofi:‘, and 
the ocean was now as calm as before. The sky 
was clear, and the sun went down in a blaze of 
glory, shedding a bright ruddy hue over the wide 
expanse which surrounded us. Hight came on, 
and the stars burst forth from the blue vault of 
heaven, and cast their reflection on the smooth 
min’or-like water as we sat on, hour after hour, 
afraid of going to sleep, lest we should slip from 
our hold, yet longing for repose. At last it occur- 
red to me to have the rope passed from one to the 
other, and secured round our waists, so that if one 
fell asleep and began to slip, the rest might sup- 
port him. Thus we got ^hrough the longest night 
I had ever then passed. 

The grey dawn came at length ; and as the light 
22 vv 


372 


SALT water; or, 


rapidly increased, we looked anxiously around the 
horizon, but nothing but the smooth glassy sea 
met our sight. Oh, then, well do I remember it ! 
There came over me a deep sense of our utter help 
lessness, and of the palpable necessity of depen- 
dence on a higher power. Of what use was our 
stiength ? Of what use was our seamanship ? Our 
strength, without food, would quickly leave us, 
while all we could do was to sit still. I spoke my 
thoughts to my companions. They listened atten 
lively, and we all knelt down together on our un- 
stable support, and prayed to God for preservation 
from our great peril. After this act we felt re- 
freshed and encouraged ; and I observed that the 
voices of my companions assumed a more cheerful 
tone than before. Our trials, however, were but 
commencing. As the sun rose in the sky, his 
beams struck down on our undefended heads and 
scorched us dreadfully, till Jack bethought him of 
fastening his handkerchief over the top of his, and 
we followed his example. Instead of breakfast, 
we each of us took a quid from Sandy’s box, and 
that had the effect of staying our appetites for some 
hours. This, however, did not satisfy our stomachs 
entirely; and a short time after noon we co dd no 
longer resist attacking our scanty store of p>rovis- 
ions. My biscuit I broke in two, and, returning 
one half to my pocket, I divided the othei into 
four parts. Jack treating his lump of grease in the 
same w'ay. We ate it with a relish I can scarcely 
describe- It was the only food we consumed for 
the whole of the day. Again the sun went down 
without a sail having appeared. That night passed 
away as had the former one, though each of us got 
rather more' sleep. The next morning theie was 
the same dull calm. Noon came, and with a heavy 
heart I served out the remainder of our provkions, 


NEIL D'ARCY’s life AT SEA. 


373 


but none of us seemed to care much for food. 
Water was what we craved for. A thimbleful to 
moisten our Jongues would have been worth its 
bulk in gold. A raging thirst was growing on us. I 
urged the men to abstain from drinking salt water, 
for I well knew that if they did, it would only in- 
crease their sufferings. Earnestly did I pray that we 
might not have to endure anotlier night on the 
wreck, for I thought that we could never exist 
through it ; but the night came, and we passed it, 
how, I scarcely know, for, though not asleep, I was 
certainly not fully awake, except to a sense of some 
overpowering misfortune. The day came, a day 
which we must pass without food or water. Our 
sufferings hitherto had not been great, but this 
morning they became very intense. Hope, which 
had till now never deserted us, began to grow faint, 
and alas ! even trust in God’s providence to wane. 
I tried to pray, but my thoughts were confused. 
I could not for two consecutive minutes fix them 
on the same subject, and I experienced practically 
the folly of attempting to wait for a death-bed re 
pentance, for sickness, or for such a moment as the 
present for reconciliation with God. I speak of 
my own feelings, and I believe that they were not 
far different from those of my men. Ilour after 
hour we sat gazing stupidly at each other. The 
hot sun rose and scorched us as before, while the 
bright glare his rays cast on the smooth ocean 
almost blinded our eyes. Several times I tried to 
rouse myself to talk to my men, and to encourage 
them ; but I own that I failed miserably in the at- 
tempt, and, from weakness, I was scarcely able to 
to refrain from giving way to a flood of tears. It 
was some time past noon, when I saw Jack’s coun- 
tenance brighten up. 

“ What is it ?” I asked. 

32 


SALT water; OB, 


374 

He pointed eagerly to the southward. 1 turned 
round, and looked, and there I saw in the horizon 
a lo3>g, thin, well-defined, dark blue line, and in 
the centre of it a white speck. 

“ A breeze ! a breeze !” I cried. 

“Ay, and a sail, too,” added Jack: “she is 
standing this way. Huzza ! my lads.” 

Jim and Sandy cheered faintly. They were the 
first words they had uttered foi’ some hours. We 
now all found our tongues, a fillip had been given 
to our spirits, and we thought scarcely of our hun- 
ger or thirst. The*dark mue line advanced, and 
grew wider and wider, till it spread itself over the 
ocean, and the white speck grew higher and higher, 
till the topsails of a vessel were seen rising out of 
the water. '’Oh ! with what intense anxiety did we 
watch her, fearing every moment to see her alter 
her course, or pass by without noticing us. 

“ Can she be the ZerlinaT'^ said I to Jack. “ J 
think when Mr. Waller found that we were not 
following him, he would have put back to look 
for us.” 

“Ho, sir, she has too wide a spread of canvas, 
to my mind, for the Zerlina^'' answered Jack. 
“ I’m doubtful what she is.” 

“ May be she’s the Opossum hersel’,” remarked 
Sandy, “ I ken she ought to be found hereabouts.” 

“Ao, no, my boy, that craft is a square-rigged 
schooner, and a big one too,” said Jack, positively. 

Less than an hour showed us he was right, and 
a long, low, black, rakish-looking schooner, with a 
wide spread of canvas, every thing set alow and 
aloft, to catch the breeze, came sweeping past ue. 

“ She’s a slaver,” I exclaimed, with dismay. 

“ Ay, and has as wicked a look a sever I wish 
to see,” said Jack. 

He was right in his description, and as she glid* 


NEIL d’ARCY'S life AT SEA. 


875 


ed by us, a villanous set of ruffians of every shade 
of colour, of every variety of costume, appeared 
looking at us over her bulwarks. Still, ruffians as 
they might be, it appeared better to be taken off 
by them than to remain and perish where we were. 
We waved to them to come to us, and Jack and 
JimDore sung out, ^‘Misericordia ! misericordia 

They appeared, however, to take no notice, ei- 
ther of our signs or our cries, and our hearts sank 
within us. Happy would it have been for us had 
they left us where we were, (so it seemed a short 
time afterwards.) However, directly they had 
passed us, their studding-sails were taken in, the 
yards braced up, and in line seaman-like style the 
schooner was rounded-to, close to leeward of us. 
A boat was instantly lowered, and pulled up along- 
side the wreck. Her crew did not improve in ap- 
pearance on a nearer inspection. As they made 
signs to us to get into the boat, we slid off the bot- 
tom of the schooner, when they hauled us in, and 
placed us in the stern-sheets. 

While they were pulling on board their own 
vessel I saw them eyeing my uniform with suspi- 
cious glances, and they made remarks which I did 
not understand. Our condition was sad enough 
to excite the compassion of any thing human. 
When we were lifted on deck we could scarcely 
stand, and eyen Jack, with drooping head, had to 
support himself against the bulwarks, and little 
would any of those who saw him have supposed 
the gallant deeds of which his brawny arm was 
capable. Our lack-lustre eyes and parched lips 
showed what we most needed, and at last some of 
the crew brought us som ewater in a bowl, which 
speedily revived us, while others came with a mix- 
ture of soup and beans. I never ate any thing I 
thought so delicious, in spite of its being redoleiit 


870 


SALT water; ok, 


of garlic, and containing no small quantitj of 
grease. While we were being fed, the boat waa 
hoisted in, the schooner put before the wind, and 
the studding-sails again set. She was a powerful 
vessel, and, from several unmistakeable signs, 1 
perceived that she was full of slaves. I had done 
eating, and was beginning to look About me, when 
a little, dark, one-eyed man — who, by his dress, I 
saw was an officer — came up to me, and taking 
me by one of my uniform-buttons, asked — 

“What for this 

“ It’s the button of my coat,” said I, in a simple 
tone. 

“ I know. You officer, then ?” asked my friend. 
“ English ship ?” 

“i have that honour,” I replied. 

“ What ship, then ?” he inquired. 

I told him. 

“ How came you, then, there ?” he asked, point- 
ing to the wreck, which we were fast leaving 
astern. 

I told him the truth. 

“ What say you, then, if we cut your throats, 
and heave you overboard?” he asked; and as I 
looked at the twinkle of his one eye, and the ex- 
pression of his lips, I thought that he was capable 
of any act of atrocity ; btit I detennined to put a 
good face on the matter. 

“I do not see w hy you should murder us,” 1 
replied, calmly. “Wo neither wish to harm you, 
nor can we ; and as you have just preserved our 
lives, it would be something like destroying your 
own work.” 

“ We shall see about that,” he remarked. “ You 
might find us sometimes in a humour when there 
would not be much doubt about the matter. — 
Your men are safe enough, as they will do’^btlosa 


]SJ:1L lyAKCY'S LIFE AT SEA. 


877 


join us, and three stout hands will be welcome. — 
You may think yourself fortunate, if you ever set 
foot ashore alive.” 

1 saw Jack, who was listening, put his tongue in 
his cheek, as much as to say, “ Do not reckon on 
my joining your villanous crew.” I had remarked 
that the captain of the slaver, for such I guessed 
the little man to be, improved in his way of speak- 
ing English as he proceeded, and 1 therefore 
warned Jack and the othei*s to be careful what 
they said, lest they should offend him. After this 
conversation we were left alone, and, sitting down 
on deck, I was very soon fast asleep. I was awoke 
by a man bringing me a mess of some sort to eat, 
and when I had devoured it I should have fallen 
asleep again, but the captain came up and told me 
that I mi^ht turn into a spare cabin on deck. — 
Taking od my clothes, I threw myself on the bed, 
and slept without moving till the grey light ot 
dawn came in at the scuttle. I was awoke by a 
loud jabbering and swearing, and presently the 
sound of a gun came booming over the water. — 
There was then the noise of blocks creaking and 
ropes rattling, denoting that more sail was being 
made on the vessel. I dressed quickly and opened 
the door of my cabin, but scarcely had I stepped 
out on deck when my shoulder was roughly seized 
by the captain of the slaver, while with his other 
hand he pointed to a large brig about three miles 
off, under all sail, standing directly for our larboard 
quarter. 

“ What craft is that ?” he asked fiercely. “ Your 
men say they do not know her. Do you ?” 

I looked again. I had no doubt she was the 
Opossum. “If I am not mistaken, she is the ship 



878 


SALT watek; or, 


“ Sh e is reputed so,” I answered. “ But I doubt 
if she is so fast as this vessel.” 

For jour sakes, as well as for ours, it is to be 
hoped not,” he observed, with a grin which 1 
thought perfectly demoniacal. “If she overhauls 
us, we shall be obliged to put into execution a trick 
we play at times, when too hotly pursued by your 
cruisers ; only, instead of expending oi r negroes, 
who are valuable, we shall be compel] (*<1 to make 
use of you and your people. It will inippy for 
you, if there are no sharks ready N grab you 
before your ship lowers a boat to pick you up. ’S'ou 
understand me 

I did, too well. The slavers, when Ijotly pressed 
by a cruiser, will throw overboard soiue of their 
blacks, one by one, lashed to something to float 
them, trusting that the humanity of the British com- 
mander ^dll induce him to heave-to, and to pick 
them up, although thus delaying him in liis chase. 

I felt very sure my one-eyed friend would put 
his threat into execution ; and though it certainly 
afforded us a way^ of getting back to our. ship, the 
risk in the interim of being caught by a shark 
was far too great to be contemplated with ecpia- 
iiimity. 

“ If you do throw us overboard, I only hope that 
you will provide us with sticks, or some weapons 
with which to defend ourselves against the sharks,” 
said I. 

“ You are a brave boy,” said he, “ and deserve a 
better fate ; but it cannot be helped.” 

There was a line breeze, but nothing more ; and 
by the time the schooneFs sails were trimmed, as 
1 looked over the side I saw that she was making 
good way through the water. I doubted whether 
the Ojjossum could go faster; and I saw, at all 
events, that, like other stern chases, this would be 


NEIL d’ A lley’s LIFE AT SEA. 379 

a long one. It very probably would last two or 
three days, perhaps longer. I scarcely knew what 
to wish. Were it not for those dreadful sea mon> 
sters, we all of us might be able to get on board 
the brig, and help to capture the schooner after 
wards, I thought to myself. We were allowed 
perfect liberty to walk about the decks as we liked 
so I went up to Jack, and asked him what he 
thought about the probability of the brig over- 
taking us. 

“ Why, sir,” he replied, after contemplating her, 
and looking over the schooner’s side for some time, 
“ this craft has got as clean a pair of heels as any 
vessel I was ever aboard ; and though our brig. 
I’ll allow, is no laggart, I doubt if she’ll overtake 
her, if the wind hokb steady, before we reach the 
West Indies, where, I take it, we are bound.” 

Jack was right, with regard to the relative speed 
of the two vessels, at all events. As I kept my 
eye on the brig, I could not but acknowledge that 
we were slowly, but surely increasing our distance 
from her. This put the captain in good humour. 

‘‘ Ah ! my young friend,” he said, tapping me 
on the shoulder; “you have escaped the sharks 
this time, I believe.” At night I turned in, and 
went to sleep, for I had not yet recovered from my 
want of rest and unusual anxiety. The next morn- 
ing there, however, was the brig, right astern of 
us,* though we had much increased our distance 
from her. When I appeared, the captain gave me 
no friendly look; and it was only towards the 
evening, when we had brought her topsails beneath 
the horizon, that his good humour was re-estal)- 
lished. Another night passed, and the brig was 
out of sight. I thought it more than probable, 
however, that Captain Idle was still following, in 
the hopes of finding us becalmed, or in some otJier 


SALT water; ok, 


i^80 

way falling in witli ns. I cannot stop to describo 
the scenes of gambling and fighting continually 
going on among the schooner’s lawless crew, 
though their outbreaks of fury were generally 
repressed, before arriving at extremities, by the 
energy of their little captain. W e got on tolerably 
well with them. Jack danced his hornpipe, I 
sang, and the other two men made themselves 
generally useful. I, therefore, no longer had any 
great lears about our present safety. 

A dreadful doom was, however, prepared for 
most on board. One night I was awoke by a ter- 
rific noise, and, rushing on deck, I found that one 
of those fierce hurricanes which occur at times in 
the tropics had just commenced. Amid a mass of 
sjioondrift the schooner drove helplessly before it. 
The night was dark as pitch, except when vivid 
flashes of forked lightning darted from the clouds 
and slied a bright blue glare on our decks, exhibit 
ing a scene of horror and confusion seldom sur- 
passed. The seamen ran to and fro shrieking with 
terror, calling on their saints to help them, and 
vowing candles and other ofiferings at their shrines, 
the fiercest and most quarrelsome generally show- 
ing the most abject fear. The little captain, to do 
him justice, kept his presence of mind, and endeav- 
oui’ed to restore order, but he had lost all control 
over his crew. Jack found his way aft to where I 
was standing, and I was truly glad to have h’n) 
near me. 

“ It’s to be hoped there’s no land under our lee, 
or it will fare ill with us,” said he. ‘‘ But I’m not 
quite certain. Just now, when there was a bright 
flash of lightning, I thought I saw something very 
like it right ahead of us. We must be ready foi 
the worst, I’m thinking, Mr. P’Arcy.” 

I felt this to be the case, and prayed earnestly to 


NEtL b’aRCY’s life AT SEA. 881 

God to stretch forth his hand to save us. Scarcely 
a minute had elapsed after Jack had spoken when 
the tempest, thundering down on the accursed slave- 
ship more violently than before, the lightning flash- 
ing more vividly, a terrific shock was felt, which 
made her tremble as if about to part asunder ; the 
tall masts bent like willow wands, and fell with a 
crash into the sea ; and the voracious waves came 
curling up, foam-crested, astern, and sweeping 
every thing before them. The howling of the fierce 
hurricane overpowered the agonized shrieks of the 
drowning crew, as liiey were carried overboard, 
while from the hold arose the heart-piercing cries 
of despair and terror of the helpless negroes who 
were confined there, deprived of even a chance of 
escape. Our two shipmates had found their way 
aft, to where Jack and I were holding on for our 
lives, sheltered partly by the raised poop. Still 
we drove on. We had evidently been forced over 
a reef, and we hoped that we might reach smooth 
water. The sea no longer broke over us. 

“ What say you, lads ? Let’s try to give those 
poor fellows down there a chance for their lives,” 
cried Jack. 

All agreed to the proposal. There were scarce- 
ly any Spaniards left to stop us ; and had there 
been, I do not think they would have ventured to 
interfere. I had observed some axes hung up in- 
side the cabin-door, and seizing them, we tore off 
the hatches, and leaped down among the terror- 
stricken wretches below. Sandy had bethought 
him of securing some lanterns, for in the dark we 
could do nothing. As soon as he had brought them , 
and we had got them lighted. Jack singing out, 
Amigos ! — Amigos ! — ^have no fear, my heart- 
ies!” we set to work with a right good will, and 
knocked the fetters off a considerable number of 


SALT WATER; OR, 


SS2 

the unfortunate negroes. The operation was near- 
ly completed, when we felt another terrific shoci 
vibrate through the ship. Again and again she 
struck. We had just time to spring up the main 
hatchway followed by the howling, terrified blacks, 
when the sides of the ship seemed to yawn asunder- 
a foaming wave rushed towards us, and at the same 
moment a vivid flash of lightning showed us the 
shore, not a hundred yards off. 

“ There’s hope yet,” I heard Jack exclaim. 

There is, after that, a wild confusion in my mind 
of shrieks and groans ; of foaming, tossing waters ; 
of pieces of plank driven to and fro ; of arms out- 
stretched ; of despairing countenances, some pale 
or livid, some of ebon hue, lighted up ever and 
anon by a flash of lightning. I was clinging, I 
found, to a small piece of timber torn from the wreck. 
Now I was driven near the sands ; now carried out 
to sea; tossed about on the tops of th^ foaming 
waves, rolled over and over, and almost di-owned 
with the spray. Still I held on convulsively, half 
conscious only of my awful position. It seemed 
rather like some dreadful dream than a palpable 
reality. How long I had been tossing about in 
this way, I knew not. Daylight had been stealing 
on even before the final catastrophe had occurred. 
At length I know that I felt myself carried near 
the sands, and while I was trying to secure a foot- 
ing, some black figures rushed into the water and 
dragged me on shore. My preservers were, I dis- 
covered, some of the negroes who had escaped from 
the wreck. I was too much exhausted to stand, so 
they carried me up out of the reach of the waves, 
and laid me on the sands, while they returned once 
more to the edge of the water, 'fheir object was 
evident. By the increasing light I saw several 
figures clinging to the rocks, against which T con 


NEIL D’ARCY'S life AT SEA.' 883 

eluded the vessel had struck. Full twenty negroes 
were on the beach, Avhich was strewed with bits of 
plank and spars, and coils of rope, and other por- 
tions of the wreck. Presently I saw four or five of 
them plunge into the water together, holding the 
end of a rope. They struck out bravely, and though 
more than once driven back, they still made way, 
till they reached the rock, up which they clamber- 
ed. The people on the rock helped them out of 
the water. There were several negroes, a few of 
whom were women, and three white men. One of 
the white men held a black infant in his arms, and 
as the light increased, I recognized my friend. Jack 
Stretcher. ‘‘Just like the gallant fellow!” thoughi 
I. At the dreadful moment, when most people 
would have been thinking only of their own pres- 
ervation, he looked out for the most helpless being, 
that he might try and save it, even at the risk of 
his own life. I hope the mother of The infant has 
escaped to thank him ; but at all events he will 
have his reward. The other two men were my 
shipmates. Of the slaver’s crew, not a man had 
escaped. After this I remember nothing ; for, from 
exhaustion, consequent on the blows I had received 
in the water, I fainted. I had a dreamy notion of 
being lifted up and carried along some distance, 
and of the hot sun scorching me ; and then of en 
tering the cool shade of a house, and of hearing a 
voice which I fiiiicied I recollected, and thought 
very sweet, say, “ Why papa, it’s that little officer 
again. Poor,* poor fellow! how ill and wretched 
he looks !” I tried to open my eyes to look at the 
speaker, but had no strength left to lift even my 
eyelids. How long I had remained in a state cf 
unconsciousness I could not tell, though I after- 
wards found it was some weeks. The next time I 
vecollect opening my eyes, they rested on the fea- 


SALT WATEli; OK, 


as4 

tures of Miss Alice Mai-low, and by her side mohsl 
young man in a lieutenant’s uniform, wliile at the 
foot of my couch stood Jack Stretcher. “ Where 
am I ? How’s all this ?” I asked, in a faint voice. 

“ You are in Mr Marlow’s house, in the island 
of Barbadoes,” said the young officer. ‘‘ As t o the 
rest, it’s a long yarn, and we will spin it another 
time.” 

“Ah, and now I know you. You are Waller,” 
replied I. “ Well, old fellow. I’m glad you’ve got 
} our promotion.” 

“But the doctor says we must on no account 
have any talking; so come away, Henry; and 
here. Jack, is the fruit for Mr. D’Arcy. He may 
eat as much of it as he likes,” said Miss Alice. 

I recollect this scene ; but I fancy after it I got a 
relapse, through which, however, I was mercifully 
carried, after a tough contest with death. Oh! 
how tenderly and kindy I was nursed ; every want 
was attended to — every wish gratified, almost be- 
fore expressed — by an old black woman, who, day 
or night, scarcely ever left my bedside. 1 quite 
loved her good, old, ugly face — ^for ugly it was, 
without the possibility of contradiction, according 
to all European notions of beauty, though some of 
the descendants of Ham, in her own torrid land, 
might at one time have thought it lovely. She 
was assisted in her labours by a damsel of the 
same ebon hue, who had been saved out of the 
slave ship ; and I believe that the attention of the 
t'vo women was redoubled on account of the way 
I had treated their unhappy countrymen on board 
that vessel. Jack Stretcher had been obliged to 
rejoin the brig, and had gone away in her. I was, 
liowever, freq uently favoured by a visit from Miss 
Alice Marlow and her kind father, in whose house 
I remained for many months, treated as if I had 


NEIL d’ARCY’s life AT SEA. 385 

been a well-loved son. At length, I was one 
morning riding down by the sea-Siore, when the 
wide-S])read canvas of a man-of-war caught my 
sight, standing in for the land. I recognized her 
at once as the Opossum and was therefore not sur* 
'"'"'sed \vheTL some hoiirg afterwm’ds. Waller walk- 
eu into Mr. Marlow’s Irawing-room. Captain Idle 
and the doctor followed soon afterwards, and, a 
consultation having been held, I was pronounced 
fit for duty, and cornpciled, with many regrets, to 
leave my kind friends, and to go on board. The 
brig soon afterwards returned to the coast of Africa, 
where we took some slavers, went through various 
adventures, and lost several officers and men with 
fever; and I again fell sick, so that my life was de- 
spaired of. Now, entertaining as these sort of things 
may be to read about, no one was sorry when, one 
fine morning, another brig-of-war hove in sight, 
bringing us orders to return home. “ Hurrah for 
old England!” was the general crj^, fore and aft. 
“ Hurrah ! hurrah !” 

At length I once more found myself an inmate 
of Daisy Cottage, and many happy weeks I spent 
there — perhaps the happiest in my life — in the so- 
ciety of my uncle and aunt and young cousins. I 
there slowly, but effectually, recovered from the 
eftects of the African climate, and the hardships I 
had lately gone through, and was ultimately pro- 
nounced as fit as over for service. When Larry 
Harrigan heard that I was ill, he came Dver to 
Ryde, and could scarcely be persuaded to leave 
me for a moment, till assured by the doctor that I 
was in no danger whatever, but even he seemed 
to doubt the judgment of the learned disciple of 
Galen. Afterwards he allowed very few days to 
pass without coming to see me, till I was strong 
enough to return his visits, which I did not fail to 


SALT WATEtl; OB, 


m 

do Tb ) good, kind old man ! He never went 
to Ireland, but lived on at Southsea, in per- 
tV'ct comfort, till he and his wife reached a green 
old age. He used to tell me, confidentially, that 
there was an honest navy agent, who- had found 
him out, and inaiated^pn paying him a wordijTful 
iiiferest for a certain share (‘f prize-money, 
he had fortunately neglected to claim in his young- 
er days. It was, in truth, a way I took of contrib- 
uting to maintain the olti man in comfort, with- 
out his feeling that he wa? a pensioner on r y 
bounty. 

Some time after I had been at home, I h ,ard 
from my gallant friend Waller, who had gone back 
(o i3arbadoes. He gave me a piece of information, 
at wlr'ch I own I was not very much surprised, 
nauiely, that he was on the point of bringing Miss 
Alice Marlow to England as his bride. “ I hope 
that she will prove worthy of him, for a finer fel- 
low does not exist,” said I. 

A short time before I left Daisy Cottage to join 
my next ship, I was sitting in the drawing-room, 
when Sir Hichard Sharpe was announced ; and in 
walked Dicky himself. We almost wrung each 
other’s hands off before we could speak, and then 
we did, indeed, rattle away. His father was dead, 
he told me. • 

“ I have been compelled to deprive the Havy 
of my services,” said he, with perfect gravity. 
“ But you see that I have my estates to look after, 
and my mother and sisters’ welfare to attend to ; 
and I could not fulfil my duties in these respects 
were I to remain afloat. Do you know, D’Arcy, 
1 am very glad indeed that I went to sea,” he con- 
tinued, more seriously. “ It made me think much 
less c f myself, and cured me of many faults ; for 
I am very sure that I should have been spoiled 


NEIL d’aECY’s life AT SEA. 


S87 


nad I remained at home. They always let me ha^ e 
too mncli my own wav and that is bad for the 
best of ns. Now, m me serrice I got cobbed and 
mastheaded, and made to do what I was told ; and 
Tm all the better for the discipline, though I did 
i)- >t like it at the time. Then I learned a very im- 
portant lesson. — that every man, whatever his po- 
sition, has his duties to perform ; and that, if he 
does not do them to the best of his power, he must 
certainly expect to be disrated.” 

“ You mean to say that yon learned this out of 
the man-of-war’s Homily-book — ^the Station Bill,” 
said I, smiling at my own conceit. 

I must explain that this Station Bill is a book in 
which is entered the place which every man on 
board is to occupy, as well as the duties he is es- 
pecially to attend to, -though at the same time he 
is expected to do his very utmost in performing 
any other work which may be necessary. 

‘^That’s just it,” replied Sir Kichard. “I used 
to think that the captain of a man-of-war had a 
good deal to do to keep his ship in good order ; 
but I can tell you that I feel that the owner of a 
large estate has many more and multifarious duties : 
and that, in a great degree, every soul upon it is 
oommitted by God to- his care, and at his hands 
will they be required.” 

I fully agreed with my old messmate in these 
matters, and was rejoiced to find that he had really 
discovered the true object of life. I am happy to 
say that he was, after this, a very frequent visitor 
at Daisy Cottage, and that ultimately one ot my 
cousins became Lady Sharpe. They, the Yernons, 
and the Wallers, are among my most valued 
friends; and at the houses also of Admiral Poyn- 
der and Captain Idle, and most of my 6ul)8equent 
COTiimanders, I am welcome guest. 


SS8 


SALT WATER, ETC. 


I rciiet not forget to mention, once more, m}' gal 
lanfc companion in so many adventures, honest 
Jack Stretcher. He volunteered into the next ship 
to which I was appointed, to my very great satis- 
faction ; and afterwards, taking out his warrant as 
a boatswain, he was with me for several years, and 
a better boatswain there is not in the Service. I 
have never revisited my ancestral halls since I left 
them with Larry to go to sea ; and, to say the truth, 
the Encumbered Estates Court knows more about 
them than I do. The ocean is my only heritage ; 
my ship is mj^ wife, and I look on my crew as my 
children. I went to sea again as a midshipman; 
then, after passing, I spent four years ps a mate, 
and SIX as a lieutenant ; during which time I saw 
a good deal of hard service. At length I got mv 
promotion as a commander, and have still to look 
for my post step. 

Every career has its trials. A naval life has 
many; but we must always bear in mind that we 
were sent into this world for the express purpose 
of undergoing them, and that while some persons 
are proved by hardships and poverty, others are 
so by abundance of ease and wealth. I, for my 
own part, feel that I have much for which to be 
grateful; and though I Have neither rank nor 
riches, I do not consider myself unfortunate nor 
ill-treated. And once more I say, that, had I to 
begin my career again, I should prefer to every 
other, a life on Salt Water. 






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.OVELL’S LIBRAKY.-CATALOGUE. 


*8 Acquittal 10 j 217. 

0 Leagues Under > 21S. 
Sea, by Verna. . . .20 I 210. 
"Slavery Dayn^... .20 
ty’s Dangliters.. .20 220. 
cd tke Sunrise. . . .20 221. 
..Times, Dickens .20 2‘32. 
Cringle’s Log. , . .20 } 223. 

ty Fau' .... .30 . 

jrground Russia. .20 1234. 
Sfciiiaich, Eliot. . ^20 

Jart II. ^0 I 225-. 

■ora, Mrs O liphanf .20 1 226. 
jin, by Lyttou. . . .20 ! 327 

Story of Ida 10 

sap violet, Black .20 
LiltiePiienm — ;10 
eny, by Black. . . .20 
jt or Bumble- 

ipy; 10 

Beautiful Wretch .20 
Mother’s Sin . . .20 

a Pastures and 
jadilly, Black .. .20 
MystcriousJsIand .15 

Part! 1 15 

Part in lo 

Brown st Oxford ,1G 
Part II. . . .. .15 

ker thru VVater. . 

Ik .A ttire, Black. ..j*.' 

."i«h P’t I. 2i.' [ 

Part li 20 I .^J9. 

r Reilly, Cavletou ,20 1 240. 

r raut? ji-.-aily . .20 j .241. 

RinectatioT'S .20 242. 
jennis, Thackeray ,20 243. 

Part II 20 I 244, 

5W B( 2 dott Piraers .20 
el Deronda. lAiot. .20 345. 

Partll.... 20 { 

m Peto, Oliphans .20 243. 
ieQateof the Sea .15 
} of a Traveller. . .30 247. 
and Voya.'^es of 248. 
uinbas.....>tT. .20 240. 
Irving), Part TL. . -20 S’Vj. 
Pilgrim’s Progrt'i^s ! 
in Chuzilewit, • - -20 201. 

Part II 20 

■pjirastus Such. . . .10 
•med.M. Edwards .15 
■no Aram, Lytton .20 253 
SpaniE’u uypsy 254 
. Other Poems. . . .y' 353 
Up by the Sea . 
rmtheFlOB.’^.P'tl .iO 306 
Eliot), Partll.... ,10 , 207 
ler Jacob, Eliot. .10 . 358 


228. 

22f'* 

231. 

332 

23^4 

VA. 

235. 

.2^5. 

237. 

238. 


Executor.. .20 

riban Holes 15 

t^ewcomos, P.artl .20 

Partll 2D 

Privateersman... .20 
Three i'eathers. .20 

item Fortune 20 

Eric, Ballantvne. JJO 
SI Iverdale’tt 
?ethcurt, Black. . . .10 


250, 

360, 

261, 

263, 

263. 

264, 

265 

266 


The Four Macnicols. .10 
Mr. Pisistratus Brown .10 
Dombey & Son, Part I 20 

Do., Partll 20 

Book of Snobs 10 

Grimm’s Fairy Tales,. .20 
The Disowpea, Lyttou .20 
Little Dorfii, Diclkens. .20 
Do., Part il..,.. .. .. .20 

Abbotsford and 
steM Abbey, .Irving. .10 
Oliver Goldsmith. . . . . .10 

The Fire Brigade 20 

Bifle and Ilound in 

Ceylon ...... .20 

Our Mutual Friend . . , .3o 

DO. Partll. . ..; 20 

Paris Sketches .-i5 

Belinda, Bfonghton. . , .30 
Nicholas Nfekleby. . .30 

1)0., Part U 20 

Monarch Mincing Lane .20 
Eight Yean- M^nder- 
ing in Ceylon, Baker .20 
Pictu : 0 i froiu Italy .... .15 
Adventures of Pliilip. .15 

Do., Part II 15 

Knicker cocker His- 
tory of New York ... .20 

The Boy atMugby 10 

The Virginians, P’t I. .20 

Do., Part n 30 

Erling tl.o BoUl 20 

Kenelm Chillingly ... .20 

Deep Down . . .20 

Samuel Brohi & iJo . . .20 
Qautran, by Frirjeou.. .20 
Bleak House, Ihict 1. . .20 

Po., Partll 20 

What Will He D j Wi' it .‘iO 
Do., Partll.. . .20 
Sketches of Young 

Couples 10 

Devereux, Lytton.,.. .20 
Life of M'ebster, 3pfs. .30 
The Crayon Papers... .20 
The CaxtouB, Lytton. .15 

Do., Partll .15 

Autobiography of An- 
thony TroUope. . ,‘JO 
Critical Heviews, by 

Thackore./ .10 

Lucrctin. Lytton, P't I .20 

Peter, the Whaler 20 

Lr.st of Llie Baions., .15 

Do., Part II 15 

Eastern Sktd.rhes. . . . . .15 
All in a Garden Fair. .20 
File Ho. 113, Gaboriau .20 
The Parisians, -Ljttou. .'iO 

D«B,JPartII 

Mrs. Darliu.g's Letters .20 
Master Humphrey’s 

Clock. 10 

Fatal Boots. Thackr’y .10 
The Alhambra, Irving .15 
The Four Georges . . , .10 
Plutarch's lives, 5 pta 1.00 
Under the B.ed Flag ... .10 


267. The Haunted House. 

268. When the Ship Comes 

Home 

269. One False, both Fair,. 

270. Mudfog Papers 

271. My Novel, by Bulwer- 

Lyttou. 3 parts 

.272. Conquest of Granada.. 

273. Sketches by Bozs 

27i. A Christmas Carol — 
275'. lone Stewart, Linton . . 

376. Haroid, Lytton, Part I 

Do., Partll 

377. Dora Thome — 

378. Maid of Athens 

279. The Conqueet of Spain 

.280. Fitzboodle Papers 

381. BracebridgeHall 

283, The Uncommerctal 

Traveler 

283. Roundabout Papers... 
264. Itossmoyne, Duchess. 
285.. A Legend of the Rhine 

286. Co.x’b Diary 

287. Beyond Pardon 

288. Somebody'.'^ Luggage, 

and Mrs., Lirriper’s 
Lodging'^. 

289. Godolphm, Lvtlon.... 

290. Salmagundi, Irving.... 

291. Famous Funny Fel- 

lows, Clemene 

JJ93. Irish Sketches.. 

293. The Battle of Life .... 

294. Pilgrims of the Rhino 

295. Random Shots, Adeler 

290. Men’s Wives 

297. Mystery of Edwia 

.Droort, by Dickens. . . 
398. Hepiimed Pieces from 

C. Dickens 

299. Astoria, by W. Irving. 

800. Novels by Eminent 

Hands 

801. Danish Voyages 

303. No Thoroughfare. . . 
.303. Character Sketches... 

804. Christmas Books 

,305. A Tour on the Prairies 
.y06. Ballads of Thackeray.. 

307. Yellowpiush Papers. . . 

308. Fife of Mahomet, P 1 1 

Do., Part II 

.309. Sketche,"? and Tr?>v^ls 

' in London, Thac k ray 
330. Life of Goldsmith. . . 
.311. Capt. BonneTille 

312. Golden Girls, Alan Muir 
hfB. English Humorists . . . 
314. Moorish ChrouicicB, . . 

313. Winifred Power ...... 

819. Great Hoggarty Dia- 
mond 

317. Pausanias, Lytton . ... 

318. The New Abelard — 

319. A Beal Queen. 

320. The Rose and the Ring 

821 . Wolfert’a Roost, Irving 

822. Mark Seaworth 


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SHAHT AITS irmVE poq 



Vitalized Phes-phites 


COMPOSED OP THE NERVE-GIYING PRINCIPLES OF 
THE OX-BRAIN AND WHEAT-GERM. 


It restores the energy lost by Nervousness or Indigestion ; rellev 
Lassitude and Neuralgia; refreshes the nerves tired by worry, e)^t 
ment, or excessive brain fatigue ; strengthens a failing menfdf 


gives renewed vigor in ail diseases of Nervous Exhaustion or Del 
It U the only PREVENTIVE FOR CONSUMPTION. ’ 


It aids wonderfully in the mental and hodily growth of infa 
ehUd/ren. Under its use the teeth come easier » the hones grow bett^, 
fiumper and smoother; the brain acquires more readily, amd rests dnd\ 
mors sweetly. An Hi-fed brain learns no lessons, amd is excusable \fpi 
It gives a Ti^pier and better childhood. 


«b •* It is witb the ntmost confidence that I recommend this excell! 
paration for the relief of indigestion and for general debility; nay, ido] 
than recommend, 1 really urge all invalids to put it to the test, foi^l 
eral cases personally known to me signal benefits have been derived ira 
its use. I have recently watched its effects on a young friend who hi 
suffered from indigestion ^11 her life. After taking the Vitalized Phc 
PHITES for a fortnight ehe said to me; ‘ I feel another person; it is a plea 
ure to live.* Many hard-working men and women — especially those enga^ 
in brain work — would be saved from the fatal resort to chloral and ota 
destructive stimulant^ if they would have recourse to a remedy so sinip 
and BO efilcacioui.'' 

0 6 9 Emilt FaITHFXJLIi* 

BBCRIBBD OVER 600,000 PaCKAOBB BKCAUBB TXl 
XMOW ITS CoMPosmowr, that it is not a bbcbbt bbmbdt, and 
THAT THB FOBMULA IS FRINTBD OK BYBBT LABBI* \ 

For Sale t>y Drusrarlata or tsy Itf all, 4|x, ‘ t 

7. CE0SB7 CO., 664 and 666 Siztli Snnnt, lT«wT«rl 








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